


King's Lair

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Castles, F/M, History, Human AU, Island - Freeform, Romance, Russian, Scottish, Tourism, eventual smut because pervert, tour guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne falls for a tour guide while Roland tries to win her back.





	1. Start of the Tour

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a little one shot, no additional chapters but then of course I start writing and realize I couldn't tell the story the way I wanted in just a few pages...so...fine...another short story. :(

The sun was bright in the morning sky as Marianne stepped off of the bus, in a pair of jean shorts and a lavender cross crop top and matching lavender tennis shoes. She slid her sunglasses down from where they had been resting in her short brown hair and looked around as she stepped out of the way to let the other tourists off the bus that had picked them up from the dock. She wrinkled her nose and angled a glare at the sun and the crowds of people. (Granted, the crowd was only about twenty people, but that was twenty people too many for Marianne’s taste.) She hated summer with every fiber of her being; she hated the heat, the sweat, the amount of people milling around. She hated being on this trip too, during the summer. She would have much preferred the fall, in the rain, where there would be no crowds and she could really enjoy herself, but here she was... 

“Oooh, I can’t wait to see the house!!” Marianne’s little sister Dawn came hopping off the bus looking like a ray of summer sun herself with her short cropped blonde hair, wearing a bright and airy sundress and sandals, and with all the energy of a hyper puppy. She stopped beside Marianne, looking up the long, elegant brick walk to the castle they were here to tour. Marianne’s heart skipped a beat despite herself; she had been wanting to visit this castle on the little island near the bay her entire life, and now she was finally here. Even the hot summer sun couldn’t take away her thrill at finally getting to come here. 

She glanced back. Behind the bus she could see the road that ran down to the docks. The house usually had two small boats that brought in guests for the tours, only one tour on the island at a time because the estate was massive (and she had heard when the castle had allowed more than one tour group at a time on the island, there had been some vandalism and some teenagers had managed to stay on the island after the rest of the tourists had left. They had tried to break into the castle without realizing that some of the King family still actually lived on the island. It was after that only small tours were allowed on the island and only one at a time, four hours apart, which was why you had to book weeks in advance if you wanted to see the castle.) 

The house, known as King's Lair Castle, was one of the few American castles in existence. Marianne knew all about the place. It was built by Alastair King, a Scottish immigrant, who in the mid-1800’s, came to America as a poor young man, but ended up making millions in the hotel business. He built King’s Lair for his beloved wife Mary in 1900 on this little island that he had purchased, a summer home for his wife and family. The place was still owned by the King family. 

The story of King’s Lair was tragic though, Alastair King and his family didn’t get to enjoy the castle for long. Mr. King’s wife died not long after the property’s construction was completed, giving birth to the Alastair King’s youngest son. Mr. King died not long after--the stories said from a broken heart at losing his beloved Mary. The children never came out to the castle because it was supposedly haunted by the ghosts of their parents, but Marianne figured it was most likely the sad memories of happier times that had caused the King children to practically abandon the castle. The castle had lain empty for nearly ninety years after that. Marianne didn’t know the whole story or what happened with the property and the King children. All she knew was that the latest generation of Kings lived on the island and had the castle restored in the last couple of decades. This generation of Kings had turned the castle into a hot tourist destination, using the proceeds from allowing visitors to tour the property to completely restoring and maintain the castle and the island. 

She had been wanting to see this place for years, since she was a little girl, a monument to a great love affair between a devoted husband and wife. And as a history major whose favorite time period was the late Victorian era, she was especially interested in the house and its history. She had thought the story bittersweet and romantic, the castle and the Kings historically interesting, but her fiance had only seen it as silly and stupid, and as Roland had put it, “Why would anyone waste all that money for a castle on a wife?” 

Roland Knight, her fiance and local news reporter hadn’t seen the story as romantic. No, he had seen it as a colossal waste of money on just one woman. Marianne had soon realized that Roland didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Oh he was good at pretending to be romantic, using romance as a way to get what he wanted, but beyond using romance as a tool for his own ends, Roland had no idea how to be romantic. Not that Marianne expected a guy to be romantic all the time, but still… 

It wasn’t long after that, Marianne had thrown her ring in Roland’s face, kicked in him the balls, and stormed out of their apartment after finding him in bed with the local newstation’s weather girl, ending their year-and-a-half long relationship. 

Marianne sighed at the memory and shoved it away. She was here to enjoy herself, not think about that douche nozzle Roland. Marianne had moved on, and she was well and truly over Roland. (Though seeing his damned face on every other goddamn billboard in the city had made it difficult.) This vacation was a just a little trip for some fun and a chance for her to finally see the castle she had been in love with for as long as she could remember. 

Sunny hopped off of the bus with a frown. “Damn. Sorry I got stuck on the bus there for a bit. I swear I’m only short, not invisible,” he grumbled. 

Dawn spun around and threw herself into her boyfriend’s arms. Marianne smiled. They were such an odd couple--Dawn, tall, slender, with pale skin, and bright sunshine blonde hair while Sunny was short, his skin a shade of chestnut, his hair long, dark dreadlocks that he wore held back by a red hairband. 

Dawn held her boyfriend tightly. “I’m sorry Sunny!! I’ll sit with you on the way back to the docks, then I can fight a path for you off the bus.” 

Sunny laughed, holding Dawn in his arms while looking up at her, his expression that of a man completely and utterly smitten; they rubbed noses as Sunny smiled. “My hero.” 

Dawn giggled, giving him a sweet, yet passionate kiss before she released him, though she grabbed one of his hands and turned to grab Marianne’s hand with her free hand and began to pull them both up the walk. “Come on!! We don’t want to be late for the tour!” 

Marianne laughed and let Dawn drag her along, glancing behind her sister to share a look of amusement with Sunny. 

Dawn had enough energy for six people. 

* 

Bog King sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and waiting for his tour group of the day to gather. He was dressed in his guide uniform, a blue and green kilt, leather sporran, kilt belt, brooch, Celtic buckle, kilt pin, sgian dubh, hose, flashes--the whole nine yards. He was thankful his mother didn’t make him wear a damn bow tie and Prince Charlie jacket! 

The rest of his uniform was a black polo (his mother wasn’t too fond of the polo because the shirt showed off the extensive knotwork tattoo sleeve-work that Bog had on both his arms, but this summer was too hot for anything else) with his name tag on the left breast, and combat boots (another aspect his mother hated, but when he had told her he needed something comfortable if she wanted him walking the miles and miles of halls and outside paths, then she needed to allow him to wear footwear he found comfortable.) He still looked like a fucking tupica, he thought fouly in Russian. He hated doing tours, hated having to be on display to so many people for months at a time when he would rather be in the upstairs library reading and studying, working on his thesis, but life was full of sacrifices and trials, and being a tour guide was definitely one of Bog King’s trials. 

Bog sighed again and ran his long fingers through his dark hair, only succeeding in messing his hair up more. He had agreed to this, all of it--the tours, being a guide, playing up his strange Scottish accent. (Bog had grown up half his youth in Russia and the other half of his time in Scotland since his mother was Russian and his father Scottish. His strange upbringing had left him with a unique accent, but for the tours of the only American-Scottish castle, his mother had insisted he play up the Scottish until he sounded like a parody of a Scotsman, or at least that’s how Bog saw it. 

But his Scottish still sounded odd because he was fluent in Russian and had a Russian accent mixed with the Scottish. Overall, it left him sounding different from other Scots--and weird he supposed--alienating him from other kids as he grew up.) The castle was part of his father’s inheritance with Bog being the last living King. This had been where they had moved to after his father’s grandfather had died, leaving the castle to Bog’s father. They had spent the rest of the inheritance to restore the castle, but maintaining the massive structure and island was expensive. There were the cleaning staff, the small restaurant staff, and the grounds staff, in addition to repairs to both the house and the boats. What little was left was how Bog and his mother ate--otherwise there was no spare money for anything. They barely made it month to month. 

King’s Lair castle was open seven days a week, except for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and the occasional bout of weather bad enough that the boats that brought the tourists to the island couldn't make the trip. Bog had been working here every summer (and throughout the fall and spring) to help his mother out between his schooling. He was now working on his doctorate in history while he also worked on the book he was writing about the castle and his family, just another way to help maintain the life of this exquisite castle, a castle he loved with all his heart. The castle was a testament to love, and while Bog didn’t believe in true love (or at least not for him) he was sure it happened to other people, like his parents, but not for a tall, ugly, grumpy man like him, he still had a soft spot for the story of a man building a castle for the wife he adored. He would have to have a heart of stone not to think the story was sweet and romantic and no matter how he sometimes acted, his heart was not made out of stone. 

That was why he was doing something else he hated with a passion, an interview with a local news station. They were sending out one of their people this afternoon to do an interview with Bog so that he could discuss the history of the castle, and hopefully drum up further business to keep the heat on this winter. Bog wasn’t looking forward to being on television. He knew what he looked like--too tall, too ugly, too thin, his face was all sharp angles. He thought he looked like Lurch’s son from that old black and white show on TV, but to make matters worse, the station was sending out Roland Knight to do the interview at the castle. Knight’s good looks would really hammer home how ugly Bog was; he just hoped his ugly mug didn’t turn off the tourists. 

Roland Knight was a local news anchor, the golden boy of the city. He didn’t do pieces like this, human pieces, but for some god awful reason, Knight was who they were sending for the interview. Bog hated the man on principle, as he could tell that Roland was a fucking walloper Мудак. 

Bog rolled his shoulders, watching the tourists walking up the brick lane and steeling himself for the task ahead when his eyes widened as he watched the most exquisite young woman walk up the lane. She was petite, but in a way that said she was powerful rather than delicate. As she approached the tour gathering area he could see large brown eyes, a rosebud mouth, and a pert nose. She was talking to a blonde woman, and judging by the similar features they shared, Bog would guess the blonde was her sister, or a cousin, related to her somehow. While the blonde seemed sweet and happy, the brunette radiated passion. Bog pressed his lips together almost making a whine in his throat of want as he watched her walking up the lane. 

Bog did his best to try not to stare, but she was just so pretty, it was like the summer sun was shining down on just her. As they came up to gather with the group forming in front of him, Bog cast his eyes away from her. He didn’t want to be rude by staring and he didn’t want her to think he was some sort of pervert for staring either. Besides, a girl like that wouldn’t give him a second look. Heck, if she caught him looking at her she might make fun of him or do something else to embarrass him and make him look a fool. It would be public school all over again. 

Bog rubbed his lips together at the same time he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the toes of his boots nervously, wishing the day was over already. It was beginning to feel like today was conspiring against him to make his anxiety skyrocket. It was hot, he had to give a tour and an interview in the same day, and the prettiest woman he had ever seen was in the tour group. 

Could it get any worse? He wondered, then scolded himself because it could always be worse. 

* 

Marianne laughed at Dawn who was describing a shopping trip that she and Sunny had just been on in which Dawn had to fight off (according to her with fists, while Sunny had laughed and said it was just a war of words) some sales woman who had been flirting with Sunny. 

Marianne turned when they came to a stop among a group of people all waiting by a sign that read: “Next Tour starting in ten minutes.” Her gaze wandered around a little, taking in the trees and flowers in bloom along the walkways, impressed with the amount and variety of flora found on the island, but then she saw the tour guide. Her mouth fell open as she started at the tall man in the kilt. 

“Oh my god…” she whispered. 

Dawn, who had been wrapped up in Sunny’s arms and was busy nibbling his ear stopped, turning to look at her sister. “Marianne, something wrong?” 

Marianne murmured. “You see the guide??” 

Dawn and Sunny both turned their attention to the guide, a very tall man (clearly head and shoulders over everyone else here) wearing a kilt, with sharp features, dark hair, and vivid blue eyes. 

Dawn murmured. “Wow, look at him.” 

Sunny stuck his lips out. “Hey!” 

Dawn giggled. “Sorry hunny bunny, he doesn’t hold a torch to you, but he is so tall...and those eyes.” 

Marianne swallowed staring at him. “He is gorgeous.” 

Sunny winkled a nose. “You think so?” 

Marianne nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah.” 

Dawn giggled. “Maybe you should get his number after the tour.” 

Marianne turned to look over at her sister, giving her a look that clearly said that Marianne thought Dawn was a loon. 

Dawn stared back at her big sister with her arm around her boyfriend’s shoulders. “What? You think he’s attractive, you’re single--I don’t see a problem…” 

“Yeah, but he probably isn’t,” Marianne said, glancing back toward the tall guide who was rubbing the back of his neck and looked nervous. Marianne’s eyes traveled down his tall frame, all the way down to his booted toes and back up again to his thick dark hair. She wasn’t aware that she actually licked her lips. 

Dawn made a face at her sister. “Well then, don’t you think you should find out? Why lust on the sidelines Marianne? You. Are. Single. You. Are. Gorgeous! You’ve been single for a while now, you haven’t even been dating...so go find out if the tall kilt wearing, amazing eyed guide is single. What’s it going to hurt?” Dawn gave her a raised eyebrow, a quizzical yet challenging look. 

Marianne glared at her sister before she groaned, dropping her shoulders in defeat. “Fine, but after the tour.” 

Dawn frowned. “You know you’re not going to pay attention to anything if you’re wondering what’s under that man’s skirt during the entire tour.” 

Sunny snorted a laugh while Marianne gasped. “Dawn!” 

“What?!” Dawn laughed back at her. “Go talk to him while we wait...goooooo!!” Dawn made a shooing motion with her hands. 

Marianne frowned, turning back to look at the tall man, rubbing her hands on her hips for a moment before she took a deep breath and walked toward him. 

* 

Roland groaned as he stepped off the bus. He hated riding on any sort of public transportation, especially buses! He walked a few paces out, trying to put some distance between him and the other passengers as he ran his hand over his hair, making sure the one curl over his brow was perfectly in place. He ran his hands over his suit trying to flatten out any unsightly wrinkles before he turned his attention back to the bus, looking for his cameraman Pare, who, besides the camera he carried, looked like one of the many disgusting tourists piling off the bus in the sweaty dozens. While Roland was dressed in a nice, expensive and tailored suit, Pare was wearing his favorite, brightly colored orange t-shirt with the words “Tasty” on the chest, and a pair of disgusting flower printed shorts, flip flops (ugh Roland thought, he hated to see men’s toes) along with this annoying ballcap that Pare wore everywhere. If the man hadn’t been the best cameraman at the station, Roland wouldn’t have had anything to do with him, but Pare was the best cameraman, perhaps the best in the city. The man always knew how to make Roland look good the few times Roland was forced to be on the scene for a story and he was professional, despite how stupid he looked. 

Pare grinned, lugging the heavy camera as if it weighed nothing. “Hey man, you ready for the tour?” 

Roland groaned. “Do we have to? Can’t we just do this stupid interview and get out of here?” 

Pare shrugged. “We could, but the tour guide is who you have to interview, sooo…” 

That was when Roland’s producer, a short attractive older woman with a bob of light blue dyed hair, hopped off the bus. She looked cheerful and stunning in a light blue, sleeveless crew neck romper and little white sandals. 

She looked around with a huge smile on her face. “Oh wow!! Look at this place! I love it!” 

Roland rolled his eyes. “Aura, do we have to do the tour too?” 

Aura smiled and walked over to Roland. She stopped in front of him and started to work on straightening his tie. “Yes, we do. We need a few shots of Bog King, the man we are interviewing, doing his thing, and we need some nice video of the place to play through the interview.” She finished with his tie and patted him on the chest. “Just do what you do best Roland--look pretty and ask the questions.” 

Roland frowned at her. “Why me?” 

Aura sighed. “Look, Griselda King is a friend of mine. A good interview and exposure will help her keep this place running. You’re popular and the pretty face of the station, which is why you are on all the billboards Roland. It’s a perfect combination.” Aura stepped a little closer cutting through what little personal space Roland had. He was struck by how good Aura smelled. He wasn’t usually attracted to older women, but he would make an exception in Aura’s case for two reasons: one, she was hot, especially for an older woman, and two, she could further his career because he knew for a fact that she knew people in the business. She had taken this job only because she wanted to stay close to home and wasn’t interested in jetting all over the place. She was hot, wealthy and had connections; why wouldn’t he want to sleep with her? 

Roland wasn’t against sleeping his way to the top. 

He smiled at Aura, giving her his best and most charming smile, reaching up to curl the one lock of his hair that lay stylishly against his brow. 

“You know Aura, there are better and easier ways…” Roland began, but Aura lightly smacked him on the cheek. “Now Roland, don’t make me drag your ass into HR for sexual harassment.” She smiled with a wink and turned to Pare. “Let’s get up that path so we don’t miss the tour!” 

* 

Marianne took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly before she started to push her way forward. The crowd wasn’t big, but it was as if people were purposely getting in her way as she tried to get closer to the tour guide. The closer she got, the more handsome she realized the man was. He had sharp cheekbones that any model would pay thousands of dollars to try and emulate. He had a long sharp nose, which she liked, and his lips... 

Wow, Marianne thought when she saw his lips...but then he glanced in her direction and Marianne felt all the breath in her body leave at once. His eyes were so blue, like the most gorgeous cloudless summer day where you felt like you were looking straight up into heaven and his hair was so dark...and.... 

When he glanced at her, giving her a small shy smile before he quickly looked away Marianne felt her heart leap up into her throat. Oh god she thought, he is so cute… 

“Okay Marianne. You can do this..” She continued to move forward. 

* 

Bog had glanced over to steal another look at the pretty brunette when he saw that she was closer, moving toward him… 

Oh shit, why was she moving closer? He swallowed, looked away quickly, but his heart was hammering and his palms had become sweaty. 

* 

Marianne finally made it to the front of the crowd and she was standing right in front of him!! He was even taller up close! Tall, thin...oh wow, look at his arms! She thought, the tattoos covered his arms and disappeared up the sleeves of his shirt...Just wow… 

Then he turned to look at her and Marianne felt as if she had been hit with a wave of the most intense lust she had ever felt before. If they had been alone, she would have grabbed him and kissed him, damn the consequences, but instead she said softly. 

“Uh...hi umm, my name is Marianne, Marianne Summerfield.” She thrust her hand out like a two year old who had just learned what shaking hands was all about. 

Bog stared at her, his eyes going from her face to her hand in confusion. What was going on? He wondered. Why was she introducing herself? 

He hesitant reached out and took her hand, wrapping his long fingers around her hand in a gentle embrace. “Bog, Bog King.” 

They both stared at each other as a wave, a ripple seemed to wash over them both from the moment their hands touched, a ripple they both felt down to the tips of their toes. Marianne was struck dumb by his accent; it was Scottish, but she heard something else there, the way he rolled his R’s was different than any Scottish accent she had heard before, and there was a boldness while mixed with the Scottish more guttural accent. It was both odd and very attractive she thought. 

Marianne knew her grin had to be stupid looking, but she couldn’t help it as she smiled and murmured. “Hi.” 

Bog smiled back crookedly. “Hi.” 

Neither one of them let go, just held hands and stared at each other. Marianne’s brain scrambled to find words. She figured she needed to be the first one to talk since she was the one that had come up here and introduced herself, but she was having trouble speaking. What were the words again? 

Bog stared at her. This close she was even more beautiful than he had first thought. Her eyes were like melted chocolate, her lips were so kissable and her grip was firm and strong. She could probably kick his butt! Why was that so attractive? 

Marianne opened her mouth. “Uh...I uh, was wondering if, ah...okay this is going to sound stupid, but what time do you get off work? Would you like to grab some dinner or maybe when you have your lunch break if you wanna grab lunch food…” Oh shit, I sound like a moron Marianne lamented, but it was too late--the words were out of her mouth. 

Bog looked down at her in confusion, though he still held her hand. “Are you...is this...wait...are you asking me out?” 

Marianne somehow blushed and paled at the same time. His unique accent was so hot. He could talk to her, say god knew what, and she was sure she would have an orgasm just listening to him. His hand was so big, his fingers were so long...what he could do with those fingers, she thought blushing more, but then his words started to sink it. Oh crap, she thought. 

Marianne hurried to add. “Ah...I mean...if you have a girlfrie…” 

“No!” Bog practically shouted (drawing the attention of a few of the people waiting for their tour) before he got his voice under control. “I mean...no. I don’t have a girlfriend and, ah...after the tour, the tourists are allowed to wander the gardens, or eat at the restaurant for a few hours before the boats taken them back, so...ah yeah, I get a break for lunch.” He smiled awkwardly down at her. 

Marianne beamed. “Well, ah, would you like to take your lunch break with…” 

“MARIANNE!! IS THAT YOU?!!” She knew that voice… 

Oh no, Marianne thought as she saw Roland Knight making his way up the walk quickly, his fake smile plastered against his face and he was waving his hand over his head. 

“Marianne!! It’s me!! Roland!!” Roland rushed up, shoving people out of his way, while the two people following closely behind him looked unhappy as they followed him. 

Marianne still had a hold of Bog’s hand, but when Roland rushed up he wrapped his arms around Marianne lifting her off her feet in an enthusiastic hug. 

Marianne gasped in surprise, her hand suddenly wrenched out of Bog’s as she was lifted off her feet by Roland. 

“Put me DOWN!!” Marianne yelled. 

Roland put her down, though his smile never wavered. “Marianne! It’s so nice to see you! Did you know I was going to be here? If you’re stalking me, I think that is just adorable! I can’t believe I didn’t notice you on the way over.” Roland chuckled and winked at her before turning to Pare and Aura. “This is Marianne, my fiancee.” 

“EX!! EX-FIANCE!!” Marianne yelled as she took several stumbling steps away from Roland. “It’s been OVER FOR MONTHS!!” Marianne hated yelling, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. 

By this time here sister and Sunny came rushing up as the rest of the tour group all were beginning to form a picture of the dynamic unveiling itself before them. 

Marianne looked frantically over at Bog who stood there, silently glaring at Roland. 

“We’re not engaged,” she hissed in a lower volume. “Haven’t been for a while!! I hate his guts.” 

Bog growled. “I can see why.” 

Roland laughed. “Oh Marianne, if you want me back, I understand and I would be happy to take you back. We were good together, weren’t we?” He grinned with a wink at her. “Really good together. We can pick up right where we left off!” He reached out to stroke her arm. 

Marianne gasped, shoving his hand away from her. “ NO! NO, no, no. NO!” 

“Aww, come on Marianne.” Roland grinned. 

Marianne hissed. “Roland--shut up.” 

Dawn echoed her sister. “Yeah shut up Roland, you cheating dingleberry! Why are you even here?” 

Marianne giggle-snorted at her sister’s insult. “Dawn!” 

(The crowd for the tour had moved a little closer, watching the drama unfolding). 

Roland smiled. “I’m here to take the tour and I have to interview one of the guides, some guy named Bog King.” He laughed. “Can you believe that name? Bog, BOG Bog..Bawwg...is that stupid or what?” 

Bog growled. “I’m Bog.” 

Roland turned to look at Bog as if only now noticing him, even though the man towered over him in height. “What? What did you say?” Roland looked perplexed. 

Bog snarled, his blue eyes narrowed and his fingers curled up until his hands were rolled into fists. “I’m Bog King.” 

“Oh…” Roland shrugged and pointed his thumb at Bog while addressing Marianne. “I have to interview this guy. It’s just a PR piece for this dump, but…” 

“Roland!” Marianne was shocked. “This place is not a dump! I love this place! I always have, you jerk!” 

Bog hissed, his voice pitched low and dangerous. “No it ain’t you fucking придурок.” Then he turned his attention toward Marianne, her words just now sinking in, his tone changing entirely. “You love this place?” 

Marianne nodded. “I’ve always wanted to come here. It's so beautiful and…” she blushed. “...romantic.” 

Roland turned back to Bog with genuine confusion. “What did you just call me?” 

Bog took a threatening step forward. “I called you a…” 

“AURA!!” 

The brewing fight was interrupted by another voice. All of them turned (along with the tourists who were enjoying the show that was going on) to see a short woman with wild, frizzy, red hair in a bright green sundress in flip flops with large plastic flowers on them, jogging down the walk from the castle with her arms out. Aura, who had been deciding whether to let Bog deck Roland, saw her friend and yelled. “GRISELDA!!” 

The two women ran into each other’s arms and hugged, spinning around for a few dizzying moments. 

When they stopped, Griselda beamed at her friend. Her Russian accent was strong when she spoke, but not so strong that she wasn’t easily understood. “Oh my lord, look at you! Such a хорошенькая женщина!! You always were a doll.” 

Aura laughed. “Stop, look at you! You look great!” 

Griselda laughed. “Thank you dear.” She kept an arm around Aura’s waist (while Aura had her arm around Griselda’s shoulders), as she turned toward the three people and the quickly building tension between Bog, Roland, and Marianne. “So is this Roland Knight and…” She smiled at the camera man lifting a questioning brow. 

Pare stepped forward with his hand out. “Pare, Miss.” 

Griselda laughed. “Oh listen to him, Miss! Darling I haven’t been a Miss in several decades.” She took Pare’s hand giving it a firm shake. 

Roland stepped forward with his hand out, smiling his most charming smile. “Roland Knight, I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” 

Griselda shook Roland’s hand with a neutral expression. “Yes I have.” 

She turned her attention to her son, her eyes clearly darting between Bog and Marianne. “And who is the very pretty young lady?” 

Bog still looked as if he wanted to rip Roland’s head off, but he still blushed when his mother pointed out Marianne. “Mama, this is Marianne Summerfield.” 

Griselda disentangled herself from Aura and hurried forward to grab Marianne’s hand. “Well hello dear, I’m Griselda. How do you know my son?” 

Marianne flushed. “Ah, we just met.” 

“Really?” Griselda smirked. “You’re here for the tour?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, with my sister Dawn…” she motioned at Dawn and Sunny. “And her boyfriend Sunny.” 

“Ah, you have no boyfriend?” Griselda asked. 

Roland started to pipe up, but Aura had moved closer to him and elbowed the young man in the side. “Ow!” Roland hissed. 

“Ah, no I don’t,” Marianne stated with a smile and firm tone. Man, this had turned weird quickly she thought, but it couldn’t get much weirder, so she said it out loud. “I had just asked him out to lunch.” 

“REALLY?” Griselda said loudly. “Well, isn’t that nice? Bog, you said yes didn’t you?” 

Bog looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. “Yes Mama.” 

Griselda beamed. “Well now, let’s get this tour started so you two can have a pleasant lunch together.” 

She motioned at her son to begin. 

Bog sighed. Where was a hole to swallow you when you needed one? 

* 

The tour of the house was everything Marianne had hoped it would be. The home was exquisite with a ballroom right out of Beauty and the Beast, a billiards room, grand staircase, library...it was perfect, like every fairytale come to life in a real home. Some sections were closed to the public, where Bog stated that the family occupied those sections of the castle. What must it be like to live here, she wondered. 

While Bog spoke, Marianne was mesmerized by Bog; by his voice, watching the way he moved, the way he gestured, his extensive historical knowledge of the castle and the island. Everything about him made her want to jump his bones and fling that kilt up. 

At one point Sunny had whispered to her and Dawn. “Man, dig that man’s voice! His accent is cool. If I wasn’t already with you...” he winked at Dawn. “I might make a run at him.” 

Dawn giggled. “Sunny!” 

Sunny laughed. “What? Listen to him, that man’s voice is like sex, pure and simple.” 

Marianne sighed. “I know…” 

The only bad part of the entire tour was Roland. 

Roland decided to hover around Marianne like a damn moon, she thought, a moon that needed the biggest damn asteroid to slam into it. 

When they had stopped in one of the bedrooms where a perfectly preserved Victorian canopy bed sat, complete with curtains, Roland stood next to her and whispered. “I wonder how good the mattress is...we should sneak up here and try it out.” 

Marianne stomped on his foot. 

When they were outside taking their tour of the gardens and stopped to visit the gazebo, Roland whispered. “I hear sex outside is an exciting experience--we should try it.” 

Marianne turned and punched him in the chest, knocking the air right out of his lungs and nearly knocking him to his knees. 

No one came to Roland’s defense. 

* 

Bog kept his professionalism during the tour, but only through an effort of will. He answered questions with extensive detail, allowed himself to be filmed, did his best to smile. He had held children up so that the kids could look out the tower windows, had even cracked a few pleasant jokes and answered questions about his kilt and other accoutrements. Yet all the while he was seething inside every single time Roland sidled up to Marianne, whispered to her, attempted to woo her--all to her clear irritation. 

He couldn’t hear anything the man said to her, but Bog was happy each time Marianne reacted with some sort of violence toward Roland. Maybe it was petty of him, but he didn’t care. The man, from only his brief interaction with him, was a cretin, a Hooy morzhovy, Bog thought with a sneer, but he kept his notions to himself. 

But finally, after over an hour-and-a-half of walking the house and part of the garden, the tour was over. 

Bog stood at the doorway near the clock tower on the eastern side of the gardens as he brought the tour to a close. 

“That ends the tour of King’s Lair castle, folks. The restaurant is now open for lunch. You may wander the gardens freely, take pictures and just enjoy the island, but please do not enter the castle. The boat will be ready to leave within the next two hours.” He smiled and stepped out of the way to let the crowd filter out into the gardens, many of them breaking off into groups to began meandering around. 

Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny were hanging back so that Marianne would get a chance to see if Bog still wanted to have lunch with her. She kept glancing over at him, watching while he spoke with a few of the other guests, answering questions or giving directions. 

Roland was off a little ways speaking with Aura and his cameraman. Marianne gave the back of Roland’s head the stink eye. 

“God, that man is like a tick,” she muttered. 

Dawn chuckled. “True, but don’t worry about him...Look! Bog’s free--go!” 

Dawn shoved her sister toward Bog. 

Bog hovered near the exit, uncertain what to do. He wasn’t sure Marianne would still want to have lunch with him, even though she clearly didn’t appreciate Roland’s advances. He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck, and stepped outside. 

Once outside he looked up. The breeze was noticeably cooler and there looked to be clouds rolling in. He frowned. They were expecting a storm, but not until tonight, well after all the guests were gone. He was staring up at the sky with some concern when he heard a lovely voice next to him. 

“Do you still wanna have lunch with me?” 

Bog turned, startled to see Marianne smiling up hopefully at him. 

Bog blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Are, ah, you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” Her smile was bright and cheerful. 

Bog blushed, gave her a small smile, and motioned with his hand. “Ah...well...this way, then.” 

Marianne smiled and with her hands behind her back, walked along beside him down the cobblestone trail that made up the path through the gardens. 

Dawn beamed, stepping outside with Sunny to watch them go. “Oooh...I think this might be it!” She squealed. 

Sunny smiled watching them too. “I think you might be right. They look good together.” 

“They do, don’t they?” Dawn nodded her agreement. “Wouldn’t that be something if Marianne falls in love with the guy who owns the house she’s always loved?” 

Sunny smiled at Dawn. “I think it would be perfect.” He reached up and caressed her jaw, guiding her down for a sweet kiss. 

* 

Roland groaned. “Oh my god, I can’t interview that cockroach until after lunch?! I just want to get this over with!! Fuck...I want to take Marianne out for dinner…” 

Aura rolled her eyes. “Roland, are you stupid? Marianne has done everything but break your nose today. Everyone on the island--except for you--knows that she is not interested.” 

Roland smirked. “She is. She just needs to remember how good we were together.” 

Pare was checking the video he had taken, looking down at the camera. “Dude, she’s not interested. Why ya so obsessed all the sudden? You didn’t want to talk about her after she threw your ring at you.” 

Roland shrugged and smirked with a superior expression on his features. “No girl has ever broken up with me--I break up with them.” 

Pare looked up and shared a look with Aura before he said. “Oh I see, you want to win her back just so you can be the one to break up with her. That’s pretty low Roland, pretty low.” 

Aura looked disgusted. “You're a pig.” 

Roland grinned. “Yes, but I’m an attractive pig.” 

* 

Bog led Marianne through the garden. “So, you said you always liked the house?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, I’m working on my degree in history and this place was built during my favorite period. And I always thought it was romantic.” 

Bog smiled. “It is. I’m a history major too, working on my doctorate actually. I’m hoping to write a book about the house and my family history.” 

Marianne blinked, a wide smile on her face. “Really? That is so interesting!” 

Bog blushed. “You really think so?” 

She nodded. “I do.” 

Bog’s eyes sparkled, Marianne noticed, really sparked in the sunlight. He was so attractive that it almost hurt to look at him. She was doing her best not to stare at him when Bog motioned. “We’re here.” 

The restaurant was a small building that was built along the west side of the house. It wasn’t connected to the house; it was its own building with large glass windows that let in a lot of sunlight, though Marianne did notice the shades that kept the place cool. The inside seating was a very nice modern dining room, but outside seating was also available. Each table had a large umbrella, and the outside tables were surrounded by rose bushes from the edge garden. 

“Would you like to sit outside? I actually think it's cooler than inside the building and the roses smell fantastic.”. 

Marianne nodded. “That sounds great.” 

Bog continued to blush as he guided her through the outside table and chairs area. “The employees have their own little section. It’s less noisy.” 

“That sounds great.” Marianne nodded her agreement. 

Bog led her around not quite to the back of the building where five tables, smaller than the ones for guests, with their own umbrellas and chairs sat. There were only a handful of people here, cleaning staff, maybe a gardener, Marianne saw, all sitting and eating their lunches and talking among themselves. Bog led her over to one of the clear tables, pulling out a chair for her. 

“What would you like to drink?” Bog asked. 

“Do you have ice tea?” Marianne asked and Bog smiled. “Only the best. My Mama makes it. Be right back and I’ll grab you a menu too.” 

Marianne nodded with a smile. “Thank you Bog.” 

He blushed as he nodded and hurried off with Marianne watching the way his kilt swayed when he walked. 

* 

Roland frowned, looking around at the inside seating of the restaurant. He had lost sight of Bog and Marianne after being detained by Aura and Pare. He had hoped to catch Marianne and take her to lunch, but he didn’t see her anywhere. He cursed to himself and sighed. Maybe she was outside, though why on earth anyone would want to eat outside he didn’t understand, surrounded by those stupid flowers. Yuck. He shook his head and continued to search. 

* 

Bog returned a few minutes later carrying two iced teas and a menu under his arm. 

He set the teas down and handed the menu to her. “I can say with all honesty that I think everything on the menu is good.” 

Marianne took the menu and opened it. “What are you getting?” 

Bog grinned as he dropped into his seat. “Corn beef and swiss sandwich with spinach and Russian dressing. The rye bread is made fresh every morning and, well it's damn good.” 

Marianne set her menu down. “Then I’ll have the same.” 

Bog frowned. “Are you sure?” 

“I trust you.” Marianne giggled. “Besides, who can say no to fresh rye bread!” 

Bog grinned at her and stood up. “Okay then--back in a jiffy with two sandwiches.” 

Marianne watched him go again, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm, her gaze riveted to his rear. She could watch him walk away all day long, she decided. That was two things he could do all day, talk to her with that unique accent of his, and walk away wearing kilts...or forward...or sit. Yeah, pretty much anything would work, she thought with a grin. 

* 

Roland wandered around outside looking for Marianne. He was beginning to get annoyed when he saw Bog through one of the windows as the lanky tour guide stepped into the restaurant. It looked to Roland as if he had entered from the back and headed into the kitchens. 

Roland narrowed his eyes and hurried around to the back of the restaurant and was rewarded with seeing Marianne sitting by herself at one of the tables. 

Roland grinned, ran his hand over his hair, twisted a finger around the one lock of blonde hair to curl it perfectly over his brow and headed toward her.


	2. Storms a'coming

The sky had grown darker as a few more heavy grey clouds moved in on the heels of a breeze that had picked up. The air cooled a few degrees, though Marianne didn’t notice. Marianne was thinking about Bog’s rear end and his legs, her thoughts completely lust driven as she wondered what it would be like to run her hands along his legs and up Bog’s kilt when she saw Roland from the corner of her eye. Marianne groaned as she watched him walking toward her with that stupid shit-eating grin of his plastered on his face and twisting that goddamn curl on his forehead. He also, she noted with an irritated curl of her lips, weaved his hips like he was a goddamn swimsuit model. 

He received several looks--some clearly poor deluded women were staring at him in appreciation while the majority recognized a self-centered asshole when they saw one. 

“Oh fuck me,” she muttered under her breath as Roland walked by a table and grabbed a chair, ignoring the cursing from the people at the table as he carried the chair with him. He swung the chair around backwards, plopping it down right next to Marianne, so close that Roland’s grinning face rested within inches of her face. 

He straddled the chair and leaned his arms across the back, giving her a smile and a wink. (He fucking winked! She couldn’t believe it.) She was sure he thought it was a sexy gesture. It wasn’t. 

“Hey Marianne.” Roland purred. “Whatcha doing back here?” 

Marianne stood up, glaring at Roland as she picked up her chair and moved it away from Roland to the other side of the table where she slammed it down so that everyone looked over to see how much distance she had deliberately put between herself and Roland before she sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I’m having lunch with Bog,” Marianne stated in a firm tone. “Don’t you have something to do, like put hair gel in your perfect hair or something?” she hissed at him. 

Roland smiled and awkwardly scooted his chair closer without getting up. Marianne stood and moved her chair around to the other side of the table again. For a tense and ridiculous few seconds Roland gave awkward chase by scooting his chair around the table, chasing Marianne each time she picked up her chair and moved it until Marianne snarled. 

“Roland, you move closer again I swear I am going to hit you with this chair.” Marianne’s brown eyes flashed with anger. Roland surprisingly had the good sense to stop, but he gave her a smile. 

“So, how about you come have lunch with me? Then after this stupid interview you and I can have a romantic dinner? I’ll take you to Midas’s restaurant. You’ve been wanting to go there haven't you? It's really exclusive, but I could easily get us in with one phone call.” Roland leaned against the back of his chair biting his bottom lip in a way that Marianne was sure he found sexy--just like the wink, and with just as poor a result. 

“Roland, serious question: did something happen to you, a car accident? Maybe you fell, hit your head?” Marianne asked with a serious expression on her pretty face. 

Roland frowned. “No, why do you ask?” 

“Because you’ve clearly suffered a head injury if you think I would go out with you.” Marianne smirked. 

Roland laughed. “You always were so cute with your jokes.” 

Marianne groaned. “God, do you have to flirt? Stop.” 

Roland resisted the urge to move closer to her. “So, I thought dinner, then a walk in the park, then we could go to my place for drinks…” 

Marianne groaned. “My god Roland, what the fuck…?” 

Roland frowned. “I remember when you didn’t cuss.” 

“I remember when I trusted you and thought we were in love only to realize it was all a lie. Things and people change Roland--get over it,” Marianne muttered. “Now, go away or the next news story is going to be how I broke your nose.” 

Roland laughed. “You are always so cute…” 

Marianne gave him a glare that should have set him on fire. 

* 

Bog was smiling as he waited for the sandwiches, humming to himself while he tapped his foot in tune to the music playing in his head while he waited. He had his arms crossed over his chest unaware of how the pose made him look to some of the people in here--sexy. Inez noticed, but with the detached appreciation of someone who liked to look at something beautiful, but wasn’t interested beyond that. She loved Bog like a brother, but it didn’t stop her from admiring how he looked as a man. She smiled as she made the sandwiches. She had her white-dyed hair wrapped up in a twisting bun under a hairnet. As usual for her, Inez was wearing all white, white jeans with a white t-shirt that complimented her golden brown skin. She wore a lot of white, which almost made Bog think of her as a Latina angel that had come to earth. All her friends and co-workers called her Imp because of how short and cute she was, a regular little pixie of a woman. Bog always thought the nickname suited her because Inez was an imp in every way; cute, funny, and mischievous. Inez smiled as she glanced over at Bog watching him dance in place with a smile on his lips. She hadn’t seen Bog this happy in a long while. 

“So, I heard you have a lunch date.” She gestured at the sandwiches she was filling to a healthy thickness with corn beef. 

Bog blushed. “I will never get used to how fast news travels on this island.” 

Inez laughed. “Well, everyone here loves you, ya big oaf. It’s nice to see you on a date.” 

Bog smiled. “Thanks.” 

Inez smiled while she worked. “Maybe you should head onto the mainland with her tonight.” 

Bog frowned, but Inez gave him a suggestive smirk and Bog flushed every shade of red imaginable. “Inez!” he hissed in embarrassment, but the petite woman laughed. “Well anyway, here ya go Bog. I put my special impish charm into both sandwiches. And good luck.” 

Bog picked up the plates with a smile. “Thanks Inez.” 

She winked. “Anytime Bog.” 

She watched him go with a sigh. She hoped this young woman was good for Bog. She had just come to the castle for a tour, but who knew? Besides, Bog deserved to be happy. If this woman was smart, she would grab onto Bog and hold on with both hands. A man like Bog was rare, a man with a tender romantic heart hidden beneath a grouchy exterior. Inez smiled with hope and hurried back to get back to work. 

* 

Bog carried the sandwiches out of the kitchen and headed outside. Any other time he would have noticed the clouds looked ready for a downpour, the breeze had picked up, and the air had cooled, but his attention was drawn to Marianne and Roland Knight. 

Bog ground his teeth in anger and frustration. He didn’t doubt that Marianne was pissed about the newscaster. She had shown through the entire tour her distaste for the man, but the gall of that asshole to follow them back here just to keep trying with her? Bog wanted to walk over to him and punch him right in that perfect nose of his, but they needed the interview conducted by Roland. 

Bog took a deep breath and walked over to the table at a brisk pace. He was going to be on his best behavior, he promised himself. 

* 

Griselda was with Aura, the two women sharing a lemonade out on a private balcony that was part of the private section of the castle. The remains of their lunch sat on the glass top table between them. 

“So, producer, eh?” Griselda asked her friend. 

Aura laughed. “Yeah, it's fun really, you would be surprised.” 

Griselda laughed. “I would be. Thank you again for arranging this.” 

Aura shook her head. “Anything for you and Bog. Besides, I love this place! You know that--had two of my four weddings here.” 

Griselda laughed. “So are you on the hunt for husband number five?” 

Aura frowned, sipping her lemonade. “Not sure, though I thought I might play a little with Roland. The poor boy desperately wants to sleep with me, thinking I’ll help him climb the showbiz ladder. I thought he might be fun for a while, though I haven’t decided yet. Along with the good looks he is an awful lot of selfish, self-centered prick to deal with.” 

Griselda laughed. “Aura you’re horrible.” She frowned. “Would you? I mean help him if he slept with you?” 

“What? I’m old enough to have a little fun. I’d give Roland the ride of his life! Make that boy see stars.” Aura chuckled. “And in answer to your second question, no. I wouldn’t help him. That boy needs to learn to work and earn things on his own. Anyway...don’t think I really want the hassle of a Roland in my life right now.” Aura shrugged. “Now, Pare on the other hand…” 

Griselda laughed again, shaking her head when she glanced up realizing that it had become quite dark in a short amount of time. 

Aura noticed the look of confusion on her friend’s face. “Griselda, is something wrong?” 

Griselda stood up, still looking at the sky, the out toward the water around the island and ground out, “Fuck.” 

“What is it?” Aura asked, startled at her friend’s reaction to something she saw outside. 

Griselda turned to her friend. “I think a storm is coming in fast, a bad one from the looks of it…” 

* 

Bog walked over to the table, ignoring Roland as he set Marianne’s sandwich down in front of her. 

“Here ye go. I hope you like it--my friend Inez made it herself. She is one of our best cooks,” he said before pulling his chair over closer to her and sitting down. He looked over at Roland with a slight frown. “This place is for employees only.” 

Roland shot a smug smile at Bog. “Well, I’m just here because my girl is back here. Just came by to collect her.” 

“I am not your girl Roland, and I’m not a kid to be “collected.” God, why are you being such a dick?!” Marianne snarled. 

Bog growled. “I think you should leave.” 

Roland continued to smile. “Oh now, come on Marianne. I just offered to take you to one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. A little dinner, a little dancing, a great night in my king size bed.” He waggled his eyebrows at Marianne who turned red with anger and disgust. 

Bog stood, nearly knocking his chair over. “You should leave now before I have to throw you off the island.” 

Roland looked at Bog with a less than pleasant smirk. “Look string bean, if you want that interview for your precious pile of rocks, then you won’t throw me off the island. In fact, you should be catering to me if you want me to make you look good.” Roland turned to Marianne, his smile turning snake-like. “Actually, you know what? If you agree to go out with me Marianne, I’ll make sure this is a glowing interview. I’ll praise the shit out of this place, but you know...if you don’t…” Roland’s smile made Marianne feel slimey. “It’s amazing what crap you can feed an audience, Bog, was it? You and your mother would lose this place like that.” Roland snapped his fingers with a grin. 

(A few of the other employees having lunch turned to look at Roland, as he wasn’t being quiet.) 

Marianne growled. “Roland Knight, you have become a bigger prick than you were when we were first together.” 

Roland shrugged. “I’m just playing to my strengths and by the way, you weren’t such a bitch when we were together either darlin’.” 

Bog fumed, felt heat rise in his chest, up his collar, and felt his fingers curl into fists. The urge to wipe that smug grin off Roland’s face was almost more than he could bear, and on top of it all, Roland Knight was insulting Marianne, using her or at least trying to use her to threaten him and his home. But before Bog gave into his urge to slug the pompous cock-bite in the face, Marianne picked up her drink and threw the contents into Roland’s face. 

Roland jumped to his feet with a gasp, his face and the front of his suit dripping wet with iced tea. “You fucking BITCH!” Roland exclaimed as he looked down at himself. “Do you know how much this fucking suit cost?!” 

Marianne moved in on the man like a tiger, her teeth bared. “Do you know how much I don’t fucking CARE?!” 

Before Roland could say another word, Marianne’s fist shot out. Her fist slammed into the middle of Roland’s face with enough of an impact that everyone heard the sound of cartilage being crushed and the wail that came from Roland as he fell backward, the back of his shoe catching on the small border that ran along the bed of roses that grew around this side of the restaurant. Roland fell backwards to land on one of the rose bushes. He howled again as the rose bush’s thorns found their way through the fabric of his expensive suit. 

That was the moment that the angry black storm clouds that had been gathering above them decided to open up, dumping cold rain down on them. 

This was followed by a clap of thunder and lightning streaking across overhead. 

Marianne looked up, startled. Bog did the same with a hiss. “Fuck.” 

He reached out and took Marianne’s hand. “I have to go inside and check the forecast. Wanna come with me?” 

Marianne, shaking her hand with a hiss. Hitting Roland had hurt her a lot more than she would have thought, physically not mentally. She decided that hitting her ex had felt great! She looked over at Roland who was struggling to get up, his nose already swelling, while blood coated his mouth and dripped down to his expensive suit. He wailed. “You broke my nose!!” 

Marianne turned to Bog with a sheepish, but delighted smile. “I would.” 

Bog grinned and pulled her along with him. Everyone else was running inside, leaving Roland Knight to pull himself out of the rose bush. 

* 

Bog led Marianne past the velvet ropes with a sign reading “Private Residence” hanging from it and up a set of stairs that led to the castle’s private quarters. Marianne looked around with wide eyes. She couldn’t quite contain the excitement of getting to go into a section of the castle that no one else was allowed in! The hall they were in was painted with a soft, mellow yellowish gold with white crown molding, and she saw a few paintings on the walls of King ancestors. (Marianne was making an assumption about these being paintings being of ancestors, but the shocking King blue eyes were evident in nearly every painting, along with a now familiar sharp chin and high angled cheek bones.) There were several photographs on the wall too. Some of these images were black and white photographs of the castle that looked to be very old, maybe from the late 19th century mixed with images of the castle in more recent years. One photo was an aerial view of the castle and the surrounding island. It was, Marianne realized with a smile, gorgeous! 

She also saw many images of family, pictures of King family members through the ages and as Bog pulled her along the hall, she saw images of a young Griselda with a tall, handsome man who had to be Bog’s father. There were some images of them, probably in Russia, while others had to be of Scotland. A lot of the images had Bog’s parents in them, looking young and happy. Marianne could see that Bog got his good looks from his father; he was almost a mirror image of the man. Along with images of his parents were photos of Bog, from a small baby with the largest blue eyes she had ever seen, to a gangly teenager dressed in a parka in the middle of what looked like winter in the Russian Red Square, along with several images of Bog here at the castle. There was one, a snapshot that his mother had blown up of Bog sitting in a window seat of the castle, his legs bent reading, the late afternoon sunlight in the photo coming through the window cast Bog partly in shadows, but his eyes were visible, the light showing them in vivid detail, and there was something about his profile in the image that made Marianne’s heart twist in her chest. 

Soon the pictures were gone by as Bog turned down a couple of halls in quick succession, giving her brief glimpses of a large sitting room with marble pillars, to a game room with a large antique looking pool table, and heavy dark wood paneling. She caught hints of other rooms deeper in and halls that told her this upstairs section was far bigger than she thought. 

Bog finally turned into a room, taking Marianne into what could only be a library and her heart nearly stopped. The room remind her of the library in the Disney movie ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ The bookcases went up to the ceiling and covered the entirety of the walls of the room except where the windows provided views outside. There were so many shelves of the ceiling high shelves that the room had ladders! Actual ladders for reaching the highest books! Marianne gawked as Bog continued through the library (there was a door in one of the bookcases Marianne noted. So cool!) The tall tour guide led her into a smaller room. 

This room had light wood paneling, a couple of desks, a large painting of a man with a nose like Bog’s in 16th century attire, and a large window that provided a spectacular view out onto the gardens. When they came into the room they found Griselda and Aura already there and the sounds of an announcer speaking in a slow, concise tone of voice through a radio that had a handheld speaker/microphone. 

“Repeat…” The announcer on the radio continued... 

Bog stopped in surprise when he saw his mother and Aura. Griselda motioned her son forward. “We have a problem Bog,” his mother said. “That storm is a category one. No one is going to be able to leave the island today.” 

Bog hissed under his breath. “Blyad’” He followed this with a sigh. “So they’re going to have to stay overnight? Are you sure?” As if in answer to his question, there was another sudden bright spark of lightning cutting across the sky, followed closely by a hard clap of thunder. 

Griselda nodded. “Da. We can put them in the restaurant. We have cots and plenty of extra blankets and pillows.” She turned to Aura, elbowing her friend lightly in the side. “You can bunk with me if you want.” 

Aura laughed. “Oooh! A slumber party! I love it!” 

Griselda chuckled. “We can talk about boys.” 

Aura giggled in response. “Oh, well then, I have some great stories!” 

Bog frowned, giving a slight grimace at his mother and Aura before he glanced down in thought. “Your sister and her boyfriend can have our guest room, and you can have my room,” Bog said looking over at Marianne. “Unless ye want to bunk with the others, but after what you just did to Roland...” He frowned. “I don’t trust that man and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with the idea of you sharing a sleeping space with him.” He pressed his lips together and said softly. “I don’t want to over step my place. I mean, we just met, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you or yer sister down there with Roland Knight.” He motioned with his hand. “I don’t think he would hurt you, just...he’s annoying and rude…” He glanced from Marianne to his mother, but she gave no objections. He turned his attention back to Marianne. “But I would completely understand if sleeping up here would make you uncomfortable.” 

Marianne gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you Bog, I appreciate that, but where will you sleep? I don’t want to take your bed from you.” 

Bog shrugged. “There’s a couch in the library, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept there before,” he added with a weak smile. 

Griselda and Aura exchanged a look, but it was Aura who asked. “What did you do to Roland?” 

Marianne tried to school her features, but she couldn’t keep the smirk from her lips. “I punched him in the nose.” 

Aura lifted a surprised eyebrow, then snorted, amused. “Oh no. What’d he do?” 

Marianne made a face. “He was being a rude asshole and he called me a bitch.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I ever considered marrying that...that…” 

Bog offered helpfully. “Fucking scunner?” 

Marianne giggled and pointed at Bog. “Yes, whatever that means.” 

Bog and Marianne shared a smile as an amused Aura asked. “Did you break it?” 

Marianne shrugged. “I have no idea, but it made a loud crunching sound.” 

Griselda grimaced, but said with a sigh. “Okay, let me go find Jenkins and have him take a look at Roland.” She sighed, glancing at Aura. “Can he sink us?” 

Aura shook her head. “No. Don’t worry honey. Roland is just a face, all the clout he thinks he has is an illusion. Hell, if we have to, I’ll do the interview.” 

Griselda touched her friend’s arm gratefully before turning her attention back to her son. “Bog, go make the announcement, and let the boat captain know that he and his crew will be staying with us for the night.” 

Bog nodded. “Yes Mama.” 

He smiled at Marianne. “I’ll show you my room and gather your sister and her boyfriend. I have some clothing that you can use to sleep in…” For a quick second Bog had an image of Marianne wearing one of his shirts while wearing only her panties with it. He quickly dismissed the image from his thoughts, the tips of his ears burning, and focused again on the task at hand. “Do you know where they might be?” 

Marianne thought. “If they aren’t around the restaurant, they are probably in the gardens. Dawn’s been looking forward to walking the gardens.” 

Bog nodded. “Hopefully everyone is heading to the restaurant, don’t really relish the thought of running around in a storm trying to gather up tourists.” 

Marianne reached out and touched his arm. “How about I help you out. I’m sure you’re going to need help with the cots and such.” 

Bog shook his head. “Yer a guest here…” 

“Bog, I would love to help.” Marianne smiled at him as her hand glided up and down his arm in a soft caress. Oh the lean muscles! She could feel the strength in his arms and while her fingers brushed along the knotwork, she wondered what it would be like to spend her time following the trail of the knotwork with her fingers? She did her best not to caress him over much like a sex starved weirdo, but it was a lot harder than it should have been to pull her hand away from him. 

Bog’s cheeks were red as he watched her, wondering what it would be like to have her run her hands over his chest, but he smacked that thought down hard. 

Bog glanced at his mother, asking for permission to allow Marianne to help without actually saying anything. His mother nodded. 

Bog smiled at Marianne. “I would appreciate the help.” 

To his delight, Marianne looked pleased. 

* 

The two of them made their way downstairs and to the restaurant. Bog had been correct; with the rain, wind, and lightning increasing steadily, the tourists had made their way to the only public building open to them, the restaurant. All the tables were taken up by the tourists and Bog could see the wait staff working to calm everyone, bringing drinks and appetizers. Bog was proud of the people who worked on the island. They were not just great staff, but family. 

Bog looked around and motioned at one of their staff, a man named Jorge. Jorge was a short man with a long dark ponytail and small, bright eyes. He’d been working on the island for the last seven years. When Jorge saw Bog motioning to him, he hurried over. 

“Hey Bog, whats up? That storm came out of nowhere man...” 

Bog whispered. “We’re gonna need to get the cots out, the storm is going to keep the guests here overnight. I’m going to need shifts in the kitchen overnight and someone to run down to the docks to get the boat captain and crew, and another person to search the gardens with me for stragglers.” 

Jorge frown. “Damn. Glad we all have places on the island. You want any of us to…” 

Bog shook his head. “No, you guys don’t need to give up your rooms. Those are for you guys. We can make the guests comfortable down here. Just don’t want the tourists raiding the kitchen in the middle of the night or wandering the castle.” 

Jorge nodded. “You got it, chingon.” He patted Bog on the shoulder before he took off. 

Marianne smiled. “You have a great staff here.” 

Bog shrugged. “We’re all like family. Each and every person that works here has put their heart and soul into the place.They love it as much as my Mama and I do. It’s as much theirs as it is ours,” Bog said with sincerity. 

Marianne smiled at him, her heart thumping a little harder for this man she had just met. He was special. The kind of man that needed to be helped and cherished. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, or falling for someone so quickly, but Bog was making it difficult for her not to be head over heels for him already! 

Bog didn’t notice the way Marianne was looking at him, too focused as he was on what needed to be done. He sighed, hated doing this part, because he trealy hated drawing attention to himself, but... 

Bog put his hands in the air waving them about as he spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention. It seems we have an unexpected storm rolling in. It’s going to be too dangerous to take y'all back to the mainland and the boat doesn’t run on these waters at night, so free of charge--we at King’s Lair will be happy to provide cots, blankets, and pillows for the night. We’ll be setting them up in here so that y'all have access to bathrooms. Dinner will also be provided free of charge, though anything extra we will have to ask for payment.” 

The crowd murmured amongst themselves. One woman held up her hand. “How bad is the storm?” 

“The radio said a category one, which means winds from 75 to 95 miles an hour, which is why the boat cannot leave the dock,” Bog replied. “It would be best to remain inside too. Flying debris, in addition to the wind itself, will make it dangerous to be outside.” 

Everyone murmured amongst themselves as Bog turned with Marianne to get the cots when a slightly muffled voice that Bog had grown to hate in only a few hours spoke up. “I’m going to fucking sue you!” 

Bog turned back around to see Roland. The blond man held an ice pack over his bloody nose, his expensive suit stained with blood and tea. Roland pushed his way though the crowd (everyone staring at him as he went). Roland stopped when he was within inches of Bog. “I’m going to sue you!” he repeated. 

Bog sighed. “For what? My ability to control the weather? Like having you stuck here on my island is even close to something I would want.” 

Roland gave Bog a dirty look. “For my nose.” 

(While they were talking with Roland, Dawn and Sunny came over to them. Dawn glanced at Roland, then at her sister and mouthed silently. “You?” Marianne grinned and nodded, which made her little sister smirk.) 

Marianne chirped up. “You can’t sue Bog dumb ass ,since I’m the one who hit you.” 

Roland turned on her, dropping the ice pack from his face. From the angry swelling and dark black-blue bruising that spread out to the inner corners of his eyes, it was clear his nose was broken. 

“Well he was there and as a member of the staff of this shit hole, he should have intervened! You broke my nose and I think one of my front teeth is loose!” Roland whined. 

Bog snorted. “Okay Rollie, whatever. I have work to do. My mother is going to send our resident nurse to come look at you. His name is Jenkins.” 

Bog turned to leave with Marianne when Roland said in his now nasal voice. “You can’t expect me to sleep on a cot! Don’t you have a room I could have, something cozy with a big bed upstairs where you and your mother live? This place is massive--there has to be a room…” He grinned. “Marianne and I could bunk together.” 

Bog turned to Roland. “Look, Roland, I am giving you a cot. The upstairs is private.” 

Marianne looked shocked. “Bunk together? Are you crazy?” 

Roland made a face at Bog, ignoring Marianne. “But I need a bed!” 

“You’ll get a cot,” Bog said and stormed off with Marianne, Dawn and Sunny hurrying to keep up. Once they were out of ear shot of Roland, Bog hissed. “Talk about someone who needs to be kicked off a short pier.” 

Marianne frowned. “I’m sorry…” 

Bog stopped in his tracks. “Sorry, about what? Roland isn’t your fault.” 

Marianne rubbed two fingers against her forehead. “Well, I feel responsible. If I hadn’t been here he wouldn’t have…” 

Bog gently grasped Marianne’s shoulders turning her to face him. He crouched down a little so he could look her in the eye. “Marianne, Roland is a cunt. You being here has nothing to do with that. He would have been a cunt regardless. I can tell, I’ve dealt with a lot of cunts in my time.” 

Marianne giggled, making Bog smile. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m really hoping we can get to know each other and I’m already half in love with you because the way you punch Roland was a thing of beauty.” He blushed glancing down for a moment shyly. “So please, don’t apologize for that ass.” 

Marianne smiled gratefully. “Thank you Bog.” 

He gently caressed her shoulders before he let go and stepped back. “Now, let’s start dragging out those cots.” 

Bog only now noticed the Sunny and Dawn were with them. “You guys don’t need to help.” 

Dawn smiled. “Of course we do.” 

Sunny nodded. “Of course.” 

Bog smiled. “Thank you.” 

* 

It took over an hour to get everything set up with clearing the tables and chairs, setting up the cots, arranging it so families and couples could have little sections of the room together, getting blankets, pillows; but with the help of the staff, the help of the guests, along with Marianne, her sister, Sunny, Pare and the rest, they had the room set up and fairly cozy in no time. No one--other than Roland--complained. Perhaps, Bog thought, no one wanted to be compared to that piska. 

Roland was kept out of the way by Jenkins, who did what he could for Roland, bandaging his nose and giving him some aspirin. Roland continued to whine about sleeping with everyone else, especially when he realized that Aura would be sleeping upstairs in the family quarters. (Bog and his guests agreed not to say anything about where Dawn and Marianne were sleeping. It was probable that Roland would figure it out, but they all agreed to put off the confrontation as long as possible.) 

Dinner downstairs that night was Pelmeni, a pastry dumpling filled with mincemeat and topped with sour cream along with a savory meat pudding, mashed potatoes and turnips in whiskey sauce. 

Bog spirited Marianne and her small group upstairs to have dinner in the family kitchen, away from the other tourists and, most importantly, alway from Roland. 

* 

During dinner the storm raged on. The wind outside moaned and the rain slammed against the windows. Bog had told Marianne that they shouldn’t lose power, they had a back-up generator just in case, but it should be fine. He just hoped the storm didn’t increase in severity. That’s all they would need--damage to the castle. 

* 

The kitchen and dining room combination that was for the private residence area of the castle was not nearly as big as Marianne was expecting. The kitchen was relatively modern, with lots of modern appliances, though she saw a lot of exposed brick and stone that still managed to give the room a medieval feel rather than Victorian. One wall had a large display of copper pans and molds, and to her delight many bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Overall it was nice, cozy and perfectly wonderful, Marianne thought. 

All of them sat at a long table, making Marianne feel a bit like she was having supper at Hogwarts. It was all rather cheerful, family-like, and delightful. 

Unlike the guests downstairs, Marianne and the others were having a different dinner fixed by Bog and his mother, which consisted of beef stroganoff, golubtsy and Ptichie Moloko--or Bird's Milk Cake--made by Bog’s mother. Marianne found every bit of it delicious. 

While they were eating dinner, Bog sat next to Marianne. She smiled when he sat down, his presence both warm and sexy. They were both starving having not been able to have lunch. Marianne tried her best not to make too many embarrassing noises while she ate, but the food was so good! And she had been able to watch Bog and his mother cook, which had been a pleasure. The two of them moved together like a well oiled machine, their constant cheerful arguing and bickering had been cute and heartwarming, but there had been the added benefit of watching Bog in his kilt. Watching the way the man moved while he cooked, the sway of his rear end, the way the kilt moved about his legs, and just the fact that Bog could cook had been almost a sexual experience for Marianne. 

Dawn had covered her mouth trying not to laugh as she elbowed Sunny and pointed as Marianne leaned forward on her elbows from where she sat, her chin resting on her hands and staring at Bog’s backside with the look of a hungry predator. 

* 

As Marianne dug into her meal, Bog frowned and moved his fork around his plate of stroganoff. “I’m sorry about our lunch date, by the way…” 

Marianne glanced over at him, her mouth full. She had to chew and swallow before she could answer. “Why? It wasn’t your fault. If Roland hadn’t been such a…” 

Bog once more provided her with an appropriate word. “Pizda?” 

Marianne giggled. “What does that mean?” 

Bog grinned, making his Scottish accent as thick as possible. “Cunt.” 

Marianne laughed. “Yes! How do I say that?” 

Bog pronounced the word slower for her and Marianne worked a few moments at it until she was able to sat the word relatively close to how Bog had pronounced it. “Pizda. Yeah, if Roland hadn’t been such a pizda, we could have had a really nice lunch date. But...” She smiled at him. “This is nice.” 

Bog chuckled softly. “Yeah...ah...would you like a tour of this section of the castle after dessert?” 

Marianne tilted her head. “Would that be all right?” 

Bog smiled. “Of course.” 

* 

After dinner, (and cleaning up) Bog took Marianne on a tour of the family part of the castle and it was as beautiful Marianne thought it would be. He held her hand the entire time, their fingers woven together as if they had always been holding hands. Bog had taken her hand and threaded his fingers through hers without even thinking about it, as it just felt right. He showed her another living room (besides the one she saw when Bog was taking her to the library earlier) painted in a deep red color with comfortable recliners and a couch, a hardwood floor, fireplace, and thick oriental rugs. She saw a television room with a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall with a couple of video game systems attached. Bog explained to her his mother was addicted to Mario Kart and that she would be wise to never challenge the older woman. He shook his head and whispered, “She is bloodthirsty.” He showed her his mother’s study, which held a desk and was filled to overflowing with plants. He showed her the guest room, and was on his way to show her his bedroom where she would be staying when they passed close to the room that held the pool table. 

“Hey, Bog, ah...how about a game of pool before we turn in for bed?” Marianne asked. 

Bog stopped to look at her and she saw his blue eyes danced with pleasure. “You play?” 

Marianne shrugged with an innocent expression. “I’ve been known to play a little bit.” 

Bog grinned. “I usually play against my mother, sometimes one of the cooks, Inez and sometimes one of the gardeners, this guy named Jake...man’s deadly with a pool cue. So yeah, I would love to play with you…” He cringed. “That sounded awful.” 

Marianne laughed. “It did, it really did.” 

Bog was blushing, but he stepped into the pool room with Marianne close behind and flipped on the overhead light, which had a beautiful stained glass art nouveau style shade over it to cast the room in a warm, comforting light. 

Bog let go of her hand. “The pool cues are over there on that rack against the wall. I’ll go get the balls.” 

Marianne nodded, watching him walk over to a rich wood cabinet, her eyes on his butt again. Marianne shook her head at herself; she clearly had a fixation on Bog assets. She giggled silently at her terrible joke and went to pick out a cue stick. 

Bog grabbed the pool balls and brought them over to the table. “You know, I saw this in a movie once, each time it was one of the actor’s turns, they had to tell the other person something about themselves as a way to get to know each other…” He smiled, glancing over at Marianne who laughed and said, “I love that idea!” 

Bog grinned as he set the balls up. “You can go first since you’re the guest.” 

Marianne gasped. “Oh, you cheat!” 

Bog laughed, walking over to the rack to pick out his stick. “No, I’m just very polite, not my fault that being polite means you have to go first.” 

Marianne chuckkled. “Okay let's see, anything at all?” 

Bog turned around with his stick. “Yep, just give me a fact about you.” 

Marianne thought for a moment while she lined up her shot. “Well, I took fencing in high school and I’ve kept up with it.” She hit the cue ball. The dull thunk of one ball hitting the others was a comforting sound. One of the balls rolled into a pocket. 

Bog grinned. “That’s really cool. I like a girl who could kill me with a sword.” 

Marianne blushed. “I would never do that to you.” 

Bog gave her a soft smile (a smile that made her knees weak and want to toss off her clothes and throw herself at him.) “Thanks,” he said, his eyes soft and so damn blue she thought. 

Marianne giggled, looking away (a giggle that felt to Bog like a delicious tickle). “All right, your turn.” 

Bog walked over to the table. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but my mother is Russian and my father was Scottish which is why my accent’s a bit...off. I grew up partly in Russia and Scotland until we settled here. Oh, and I’m fluent in both Russian and Gaelic.” 

“That is really cool, BUT…” She pointed at him with the pool cue. “...doesn’t count as something about you that I don’t know because it was something I could eventually have figured out.” 

Marianne grinned at him. 

Bog made a face at her before he asked. “Fine,” he relented. “Would you like a drink while we play?” He motioned with his head over to the liquor cabinet at the far end of the room that she hadn’t noticed. “Sure!” Marianne nodded with a smile. 

Bog leaned his stick against the wall near when he stepped in front of the cabinet. “I’m pretty good at making a white Russian, whiskey sour, an Irish redhead, and Moscow mule. Knew how to make them by the time I was ten.” 

Marianne frowned. “Did you use to bartend? Wait--what? Did you say ten??” 

Bog had his back to her, but he shook his head. “Nope.” Bog laughed. “I have alcoholic uncles on both sides who wanted me to know how to make their favorite drinks.” 

Marianne laughed. “You’re lying.” 

Bog glanced ofverhis shoulder at her grinning, his blue eyes dancing. “Nope, I’m not. So what would you like?” 

Marianne thought for a moment. “How about a Moscow Mule,” she ventured. “Never had one before...” 

“One Moscow Mule coming up. Oh, and does that count as my personal confession?” Bog asked as he worked on the drinks. 

Marianne thought for a moment then nodded. “Yes, ten year old bartender counts.” Bog stuck his tongue out at her and she giggled. “I guess it's my turn again,” she said as she lined up another shot. “Let’s see...I hate pickles.” 

Bog nodded. “Me too. Hold up, I gotta run to the kitchen for some ice and lime. Be right back.” 

Marianne watched him go with a smirk, enjoying the way his kilt swayed when he walked quickly. She shook her head at herself. “Marianne, I think you have a kilt and ass fetish...or at least a kilted Bog King ass fetish.” She giggled at herself as she leaned against the table and waited, her eyes wandering the room. She saw a beautiful medieval tapestry on one wall with a depiction of a stag hunt. There was a table with some books scattered on it, some old photos, cushions in the two chairs in here. It was a really nice room, a place she could spend a lot of time in. 

She heard the sound of Bog coming back carrying a bucket of ice and a lime. He smiled at her. “Back!” 

“Your turn.” Marianne took her shot and missed, cursing under her breath. 

Bog moved over to the liquor cabinet and set up everything he needed to make her drink. “Mm...let’s see...I once had a band when I was a teenager in Russia. A death metal band,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows. “We called ourselves Rip the Scab. I was the lead singer and guitarist.” 

Bog walked over to hand her the drink he had made for her and held his own drink which looked like a straight shot of whiskey. Marianne’s drink was in a small copper mug, she saw with surprise and interest “Here ya go.” 

Marianne was staring at him. Bog frowned. “Ah, do you not like the drink?” 

Marianne shook her head. “You just said you play guitar and sing. You still do, right?” 

Bog looked a little sheepish. “Ah...yeah…” 

Marianne swallowed. “Ah, could you sing something for me?” 

Bog blushed and said, “On my next turn.” 

Marianne was blushing and quickly said. “I have a birthmark on my side that looks like a butterfly. Now sing.” 

Bog’s blush returned as soon as it had begun to fade. “A butterfly?” 

Marianne nodded. “You said you would sing.” 

Bog downed his whiskey in one shot. “Okay…let me think...no death metal, though.” He laughed self-consciously before he bit his bottom lip in thought. (Marianne felt her insides catch on fire when he bit his lip. Did he not realize how sexy that was? He clearly didn’t!) 

He thought for a few more seconds before he began to tap his foot, then he sang. 

“Saturday night I was downtown 

Working for the F.B.I. 

Sitting in a nest of bad men 

Whiskey bottles piling high 

Boot legging boozer on the west side 

Full of people who are doing wrong 

Just about to call up the D.A. man 

When I heard this woman singing a song.” 

* 

Marianne knew the song he was singing--Long, Cool Woman in a Black Dress and he was singing it perfectly with just enough of a sexy growl to his voice that she felt heat rocket through her entire body. She had been lusting after him already, but now her lust had gone from an eight to twenty! 

Bog had closed his eyes tapping out a tune while he sang. (Closing his eyes made him less nervous singing in front of Marianne. He hadn’t sung in front of anyone but his Mama and a few of the staff in ages!) 

Marianne’s knuckles had turned white around her pool cue as she watched him. Everything about the man oozed sex and she was completely smitten. She gulped her drink, trying to cool herself down. 

“A pair of forty fives made me open my eyes 

My temperature started to rise 

She was a long cool woman in a black dress 

Just a five nine 

Beautiful 

Tall 

With just one look I was a bad mess 

‘Cause that long cool woman had it all. 

* 

Bog opened his eyes and looked at Marianne, and the heat in his eyes made her feel another hotter rush of desire. He smiled shyly. “I'm not that good, but…” 

“Oh Bog, you are wonderful,” Marianne said almost breathlessly. 

Bog blushed. “Thank you. Ah...your turn. Though I’m not sure how you could top a butterfly birthmark.” He walked back over to the liquor and filled his shot glass. Marianne finished her drink. 

This was going to be a long, hot pool game. 

* 

Bog, sitting on the floor with his legs up, laughed, a clear full-bodied laugh. Marianne was sitting on the floor next to him, leaning against his shoulder giggling, the remains of a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka and their glasses at their feet. Their pool cues laid haphazardly on the pool table, the balls having rolled everywhere across the table. The storm was raging outside, the rain slammed against the window, but neither of them noticed. They had been drinking for a couple of hours, telling each other any number of secrets and confessions about themselves. The drunker they became, the more intimate the details became and the sillier the stories. 

Bog chuckled and said with a sly slur in his words. “You snorted like a pig again!! I can’t believe you did that!” 

Bog lifted his arm to lay it around her shoulders holding her up against him. Marianne was laughing so hard she was in tears and she snorted again, her arm around his chest as she laid her head against his shoulder and pressed her face into his chest. She had just told him the story of how Dawn, she, and a handful of friends had gotten another friend of theirs who worked at Dairy Queen to make an Ex-Lax blizzard out of an entire box of chocolate flavored laxative chewables to serve to a guy who had dumped Marianne’s best friend at the time and how the same guy had not shown up to school for a week afterwards. 

Marianne snorted on her laugh again, looking up as she laid her cheek against his chest. “Well I can’t believe you put Nair in that one guy’s shampoo bottle at school!” 

Bog laughed. “Hey, he looked better bald!” 

They both broke down into fits of laughter again. 

Marianne wheezed in a breath before she pushed herself up. “Okay, your turn! You said you would show me all your tattoos.” 

Bog giggled. “I did, but I also told ya I didn’t have any others except on the arms.” 

Marianne crossed her arms and made a stubborn face at him. “Well, I don’t believe you.” 

Bog grinned at her. “ Okay.” He sat up and reached back to grab his shirt hem and pulled off his shirt. The tattoos went clear up to his shoulders, and just as he had told her, he didn’t have any other tattoos except for the intricate arm work that went from his wrists and covered his entire arms. His chest was bare except for a small amount of hair, just enough to run her fingers through. She could see a scar running along his ribs that looked like it must have been bad, and another that was at his waist, the scar disappearing just under the band of his kilt. She felt hot as her eyes wandered down his torso. He settled back against the wall again, resting his arms on his knees. “See--told ya.” 

Marianne smiled, her cheeks and ears red and rosy. “Nope, guess you don’t.” 

“You have any tattoos?” he asked. 

Marianne shook her head. “Not yet. I want one though.” 

Bog smirked. “Maybe I don’t believe you. No butterflies or cute little dolphins or hearts?” 

Marianne surprised him by pulling her shirt off...just like that. “Nope, not a one. Especially not ‘college girl’ tattoos.” She twisted this way and that from where she sat on the floor. 

Bog stared. She wore a little dark purple bra, the kind that rode low, just barely covering her nipples. He felt his face catch on fire, literal fire he was sure--only a matter of time and his eyes would melt. His voice dropped to a whisper as he said. “No, no you don’t have any--at least not the upper body...” 

They stared at each other when Marianne asked. “How long has it been since you kissed someone? Like, a real kiss?” 

Bog’s voice was soft. “Two years. There was a party a couple of years ago for Jorge’s birthday, there was some girl I made out with...didn’t even know her name. You?” 

Marianne’s voice was a whisper. “There was a guy I went out with, about eight months ago. We kissed, but it was gross, like kissing my brother.” 

Bog chuckled. “Ew.” 

Marianne giggled and nodded. 

They were both quiet for a few moments when Marianne whispered. “Would you like to kiss me?” 

Bog, who had dropped his gaze to his knees in order not to stare at her and her bra, looked up. He blinked then answered honestly. “Yes, yes I would.” 

Marianne moved closer to him. “I would like you to kiss me.” 

They stared at each other. Then Bog reached out, sliding his hand along the side of her neck. His hand was callused and warm, his touch gentle as he guided her closer. Marianne stared into his eyes. They were so blue she thought, the bluest blue in the whole damn world. He stroked his thumb across her cheek as his gaze moved from her eyes to her lips then back to her eyes. 

“You sure?” he asked in a heavy voice, his accent thicker. Marianne blinked. Besides his eyes and his accent making her clothing feel too tight, hot, and restrictive, she saw a lock of dark hair had fallen across his brow. 

“Very sure,” she replied in a hushed tone, reaching out to lay her hands against his bare chest. He was warm, his skin soft... 

Bog pressed his lips together staring at her mouth before he ducked his head and pressed his lips against hers. Marianne felt the heat from his lips rocket through her body. She opened her mouth against his, her tongue flicked across his lips. Bog opened his mouth and his tongue caressed slowly across hers, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head. Marianne moved closer too, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders as Bog leaned toward her, dropping one of his legs to the floor. She shimmied a little closer, moving to straddle his downed leg, her thighs pushing up his kilt. Bog’s other hand went around her, his fingers spread against the soft, silky skin of her bare back just under her bra. 

Marianne made a soft moan, wrapping her arms around him. Her hands caressed the smooth lean expanse of his back, feeling the way his muscles moved under his skin as he held her against him, pressing her up against his chest as he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving in a slow sensual dance that had every inch of her on fire. She could taste whiskey on his tongue and she had never tasted anything sweeter. 

Bog groaned. Kissing Marianne was like no kiss he had ever encountered before. He could taste vodka on her tongue mixed with the warmth and wet softness that made him want to touch her, touch all of her. Her lips were like silk, her skin like satin. He pressed her against him, feeling the lace of her bra press against his skin, the feel of her breasts, warm and soft against his chest. When she moved her leg, pressing up against his now very hard erection, he groaned again. 

Marianne felt a shudder ran through her body when she felt how hard he was against her leg. The kilt didn’t hide much, and knowing he was turned on excited her even more. She wanted him, wanted him now. Her hands moved from his shoulders, one hand up into his hair. She grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, forcing his head back while she kissed him deeper, her tongue tracing his mouth, caressing his teeth. 

Bog opened his eyes to look up at her as she rose up on her knees and leaned into him. His hand moved down to her rear, and gently, experimentally squeezed, but the gesture only made her smile against his mouth. 

Marianne rubbed her nose against his and asked in what she hoped sounded seductive and not drunkenly goofy. “What’s under your kilt?” 

Bog blushed, but he tried to answer in the same seductive way. “Do ye really wanna know?” 

Marianne smiled licking his mouth. “I do.” 

“Oh crap!” 

They both turned to see Dawn standing in the doorway looking completely embarrassed. “Ah...sorry...just...hadn’t seen you in an hour or more and was...wondering...Okay! You’re fine, BYE!” 

Dawn rushed off disappearing from the doorway. 

Marianne groaned with embarrassment. “Shit.”


	3. Rainy Night

Marianne turned to Bog who looked ashamed and embarrassed. “Don’t you go anywhere.” She laid her hand gently on his chest. “I’ll be right back.” 

Bog looked so upset that all Marianne wanted to do was kiss him and tell him it was all right. “Marianne, I…” 

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Stay here.” She stood up, grabbing her top and yanking it on as she ran out of the room after her sister. “Dawn! Dawn!” 

Marianne called out and Dawn stopped. She was more than halfway down the hall when she turned to see Marianne giving chase. 

Dawn looked shocked. “What are you doing?” 

Marianne blushed brightly. “Bog and I just had…” 

Dawn groaned. “NO. I mean, why are you coming after me? Get back in there!” Dawn pointed down the hall toward the game room where Bog was hopefully waiting for her, Marianne prayed. 

“I thought…” Marianne began, but Dawn laughed. “Okay I was shocked at seeing my sister in the middle of...that...on the floor. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but damn sis...Bog is hot, you’ve been ogling him all day, and now you got him...So why are you chasing after me? I’m a big girl. I don’t need my big sister to teach me about the birds and bees you know. Sunny and I probably know things you don’t.” Dawn put her hands on her hips. 

Marianne gasped and flushed. “Dawn!” 

Dawn took her big sister by the shoulders and turned her around. “Now--go get him.” 

Marianne frowned and bit her bottom lip. “You don’t think I’m being...you know…” 

“A slut? Seriously? Marianne…” Dawn sighed. “First off, you like him, you are a grown woman, if you wanna take that man to bed, then you take that man to bed. There is no right or wrong about it and if you want more than a one night stand, then you go after it.” Dawn smiled gently. “He’s really into you sis, I could see that the moment he laid eyes on you. He’s sweet, smart, kind, and he hates Roland. AND he owns the castle you love. Go have fun on a wild stormy night in the castle you’ve always loved. Okay?” Dawn sighed. “Besides, I really don’t think Bog is a one night stand sort of guy either. I mean granted, I don’t know him well, but he just doesn’t give off that vibe. In my opinion, whatever this is between the two of you is gonna be more than one stormy night of sex.” 

Marianne sighed, relieved to hear someone say what she hoped to be the case. “Thanks sis. You sure you’re not the older one?” 

Dawn grinned. “Maybe I am.” She looked thoughtful before she gave her sister a push. “Go.” 

Marianne giggled, hurrying down the hall and turning to yell back at her sister giving her a wave. “Love you!” 

Dawn waved after her. “Love you too.” 

Dawn watched Marianne disappear into the room with a shake of her head and a soft giggle. Seeing her sister making out with Bog gave her an idea. She grinned and headed off to find Sunny again. An early bedtime was in order, she thought. There was nothing quite so fun as making love under the covers while there was a storm going on. 

* 

Marianne arrived back in the game room to find Bog, his shirt back on, putting away the cue sticks. He turned when she entered and gave her a shy smile. 

“Everything all right?” he asked, the Russian purr in his voice made his consonants a little stronger, which she was figuring out was a sure sign that he was worried. 

“Yeah, Dawn’s fine.” Marianne rubbed her hands down the front of her thighs, her heart pounding as she walked in. She was nervous; one night stands were never her thing. She just didn’t have the kind of disposition that made causal sex something she engaged in, but she wanted Bog, wanted him a lot, and she hoped he wanted her too. He seemed to want her… 

“So, ah...earlier before my sister showed up…” Marianne began, but Bog turned a bright shade of red. “I’m sorry, Marianne. We drank too much…” Bog looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck, then his face. 

Marianne walked over to him and gently took his hands in hers. “I might still be a little tipsy, but...I still want to know what’s under your kilt.” 

Bog stared back at her, his eyes almost comically wide. “What?” 

Marianne smiled gently, and a sparkle in her brown gaze made Bog shiver. “How ‘bout you show me your room?” 

Marianne didn’t think Bog’s eyes could become wider, but they did. “Marianne I…” 

Marianne blushed, dropping his hands. “Oh shit...ah...you don’t want to...I'm sorry…” 

Bog reached out and cupped her face between his hands. His hands were large, the fingers long and slender, and his touch felt pleasantly warm. He gently pulled her toward him and kissed her. Marianne felt the kiss down to her very toes. His lips were soft, warm, and his tongue caressed hers with tenderness, but also with need. Marianne made a soft sound of pleasure reaching out to grab the sides of his shirt and squeezing her hands into fists around the fabric. She stepped in closer, returning his kiss with a passion that burned deep inside her. 

Bog released her mouth to lay his forehead against hers. “I would love to be with you Marianne. I want to be with you.” 

Marianne smiled. “Really?” 

Bog laughed softly. “Yes…” he whispered. “Pozvol' mne lyubit' tebya.” 

Marianne giggled. “I have no idea what you said, but I love how it sounded.” 

Bog grinned. “How about I just show you.” 

He stepped back and took her hand. His smile was shy, bashful, but he held her hand and led her from the room. They walked down the hall taking a turn to the right into another hall. Bog took her to the end where a large wood door sat and opened in, pulling her inside. She stayed by the door as he walked over and flipped a lamp on by his bed. 

The room wasn’t overly large, Marianne saw, but she would call it decent sized. The floor was hardwood with a couple of throw rugs, a window at the far end had the curtains open that showed the rain pounding against the glass. She saw a nice dark green covered loveseat that sat in front of a large flat screen television with a blu-ray player and some movie cases underneath. There was a short wooden coffee table with a mug still on it and few books scattered over the top as well as one or two movie cases. The walls were painted a dark blue with an evergreen trim which made the room feel smaller than it was, but more cozy. A desk sat in one corner with papers piled up on it, and scattered all over it, along with a closed chromebook. Next to the desk on a stand rested a set of bagpipes. She saw at least two large bookcases stuffed with books, mostly paperbacks, but the biggest piece of furniture in the room was the bed. The unmade bed had huge wood pillars at each corner that rose up to hold the canopy. The bed had a dark grey and blue comforter on it, along with several blankets that all looked soft enough to sink into, with large pillows and a thick tapestry canopy with heavy bed curtains that could be pulled around to hide the occupants of the bed. There were a few framed pictures on the wall, mostly posters, a couple from The Lord of the Rings and a poster from the Princess Bride. Overall the room looked comfortable and cozy. 

Marianne gasped in surprise when she saw the bed. 

Bog blushed. “I know the room’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting to bring anyone in here…ever,” he muttered under his breath. 

Marianne smiled, looking around. “I love it!” 

Bog blinked in surprise. “Really?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes really! You have a canopy bed! Can I go lay on it?” 

Bog chuckled. “Well, I sorta thought that was what we were gonna do…” 

She laughed again, grabbing his hand and dragged him with her. When she got to the bed Marianne kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto it. Bog laughed, kicking off his own shoes and joining her. 

Marianne smiled with a happy groan as she sank into the mattress, lying on her back. She gazed up at the canopy. “I always wanted a canopy bed when I was a little girl.” 

Bog rolled onto his back next to her, laying his hands over his chest while looking up at the top of his bed. Marianne wiggled a little closer, leaning her head against his shoulder as Bog spoke. 

“The bed is pretty old. Been here since the castle was completed. But don’t worry, I bought a new mattress.” 

Marianne laughed turning to look at him. “Well that’s good to know.” 

Bog grinned at her. “The sheets and pillows are new too.” 

Marianne giggled. “You’re funny.” 

He smirked. “That is one thing no one has ever said about me.” 

Marianne scooted and rolled onto her side to face him. “I don’t believe that. You’re very funny.” 

Bog rolled his head to the side to gaze at her with a smile. “You are still a little drunk.” 

She shrugged. “Maybe…” 

Marianne leaned in and kissed him. Bog made a soft sound of pleasure, rolling onto his side, his arm going around her waist. The moment their lips touched, the fire that had burned down to a simmer rekindled. Bog wrapped his arms around her, rolling Marianne gently onto her back again, but this time he rolled with her until he was on top of her. They took a few seconds to adjust, but then Marianne’s hands were running down his back, thinking what a shame it was that his shirt was back on, while Bog, resting on his elbows over her, ran his fingers through her short hair, his full concentration on kissing her. He wanted to kiss her thoroughly, to know the feel of her mouth, the warmth of her tongue. He stroked his fingers through her hair, wanting to absorb, to remember every detail of her, from the softness of her hair, to the feel of her tongue, and the warmth of her body under him. 

Marianne ran her hands down to his hips before pulling her mouth away from his mouth and breathlessly asking while looking up into his blue eyes: “Shouldn’t we, ah...maybe start from where we were earlier?” 

Bog chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

He rolled off of her to sit up and reached over his shoulders to grab his shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor while Marianne did the same. They stared at each other. 

“You are beautiful,” Bog said softly. 

Marianne blushed. “So are you.” 

Bog chuckled, glancing down with a shy smile. “No one has ever said that to me.” 

Marianne reached up and stroked his face. “Well, the world is full of idiots.” 

She kissed him again, a slow, lingering kiss. They sank once more to the bed with Bog again rolling on top of her with Marianne’s encouragement. Bog cupped her face, brushing his thumb along her lower lip while he kissed her. His hand slid down her shoulder and along her arm, caressing her skin, then back up to her face. 

Marianne smiled against his mouth and playfully caught his bottom lip with her lips before laughing softly. She wanted to touch all of him. Her hands ran down his sides, then along his back feeling the way his spine curved, the way the muscles worked under his soft skin. She slid her fingers down to the top of his kilt and traced the line where the kilt and skin met. She ached badly with her need to touch him...God, Marianne thought to herself, she wanted to touch every inch! She had never felt this strongly attracted to anyone, ever. 

Marianne hooked her leg around his and used her body to twist. Bog responded, rolling onto his back. Marianne went with him, pushing herself up to straddle his hips and pulling away from his mouth so she could sit up. 

When she sat up Marianne thought she might die. He was so gorgeous, his head sinking into the pillow, lying under her, his hair a mess from the attention of her fingers. She bit her bottom lip and ran her hands down his torso, admiring the thin muscles, his slender and athletic build. When Bog smiled at her, her heart did a little flutter at the sight of his smile. She grinned, her hands wandering down across his stomach, her eyes never leaving his smiling face. 

Bog surprised her, sitting up and kissing her, his hands moving up her torso. Marianne loved the way his hands felt on her skin. His hands weren’t huge, but his fingers were long and the way he touched her made Marianne feel delicate, dainty even. His lips left hers to travel along her throat, kissing his way down until his mouth settled between her breasts. 

Marianne arched with a soft gasp of pleasure. His lips were hot and soft against her skin, sending waves of delicious heat through her. Bog kissed down to her breastbone, the heat of his lips transferring through the fabric of her bra to her skin. Marianne’s fingers glided through his dark hair as she arched her back into his attentions. When she felt Bog’s fingers at the clasp of her bra, she arched a little more to give him encouragement. 

Bog unhooked her bra and Marianne reached up to grasp the straps, slid her bra down her arms, then dropped her bra to the floor. 

Bog gazed at her in a way that made Marianne feel not just beautiful, but also like a goddess. He ran his hands over her breasts, his fingers just barely touching her skin. Marianne caught her bottom lip with her teeth, her eyes fluttering shut at his touch. He caressed her breasts gingerly, his fingers gliding feather soft over her skin, but Marianne felt on fire. She squeezed his shoulder in encouragement. He smiled tenderly, leaning in to place a kiss her between her breasts, following the line of her breastbone before following the smooth, soft curve of one breast. His nose brushed along her skin, inhaling the sweet scent of her while his lips traced the underside of one breast, making his way to her nipple. He placed a gentle kiss upon her hardened nipple. 

Marianne sucked in a breath, her hands sliding up run through his hair, cradling his head while Bog opened his mouth and ran his tongue around her nipple, followed by kisses and sucking her nipple between his soft lips. She hissed and trembled. He was gentle, tender, worshipful. She felt adored and appreciated in his simple gestures. Bog switched to her other breast, repeating the same tender caresses, the same gentle kisses and licks until Marianne felt tight and swollen, as if her body was on the verge of bursting into starlight. 

Bog dropped back against the bed again, pulling her with him, his mouth hungrily moving over hers once more. The feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest, feeling the brush of her hard nipples against his skin made Bog shudder. He ran his hands over her back then up to her shoulders. He wanted to touch every inch of her; he didn’t want to leave any part of her untouched by his hands or lips. Marianne’s skin felt like silk, soft, smooth, and exquisite. 

When Marianne rolled off of him, Bog blinked in surprise and then watched as she dropped off the side of the bed to quickly undress the rest of the way. Bog wondered briefly if he was dreaming, or more drunk than he thought, because this couldn’t be real. Marianne was out of his league, he felt certain. She was smart, pretty, and fearless. Why on earth would she want to be with him? 

But then she was blushing, standing at the side of his bed naked, looking every inch a goddess, a fairy princess, a dryad...a woman. Then he noticed the butterfly birthmark on her hip which made his already throbbing erection hurt more. 

Marianne bit her lip. “Ah...aren't you gonna...undress? I mean, you can leave the kilt on if you want, but…” She blushed bright red, covering herself a little. 

Bog blushed looking down at himself. “Uh...no...ah...der'mo…” 

Bog rolled off the bed and hurried to remove the kilt and the bike shorts he wore underneath without realizing that Marianne was watching him. She had her lips pressed together, her eyes wide with appreciation. She giggled a little when his shorts got stuck on one foot and he twisted around a little with a hop step. He had a nice backside she thought--and nice everything--long, lean legs, narrow hips. The way his body tapered down to his groin, flat stomach...oh my, she thought with barely suppressed giggles of nervous appreciation. 

Bog turned dropping his hands down over his erection as he felt his cheeks felt on fire. 

“Ah…” he smiled. “I’ll...uh…” 

Marianne pulled the sheets back farther and he watched in shocked wonderment as she crawled onto the bed. She smiled at him, pulling the sheets up, covering herself, but she pulled part of the sheets back for him, smiling up at him. “You coming?” 

Marianne winced. Well, that had a double meaning, considering the circumstances. 

Bog nodded and climbed into the bed, giving Marianne another peek at him as he slipped under the covers. They lay facing each other, naked under the covers, suddenly both nervous again; the building passion that had started had now been replaced once more with nervousness. 

Bog chewed at his bottom lip. “Ah...we don’t have to…” 

Marianne blushed red. Could you die of blushing, she wondered briefly, and bet that a person could. 

“No, no...I mean yes...ugh…” She groaned, dropping her head to the pillow to stare up at the canopy before turning her head to the side. “I mean yes. I still want to...if you do.” 

“Yes! I...yes…I do...” Bog blushed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m not really all that smooth,” he muttered. “You might have noticed,” he added with a self-deprecating smirk. 

Marianne giggled. “Me either. Maybe we should just start with a kiss again.” 

“Yeah, maybe that would…” Bog began, but Marianne had already scooted closer to him, rolling toward him. She moved the sheet out of the way to press her body against his. Bog went still. Her body was soft, warm, so soft he thought, but he resisted the urge to grab her, instead waiting, letting Marianne lead him. 

Her hand reached out to caress his cheek, her fingers drawing a line along his jaw as her eyes caressed his face. He was just so handsome she thought, with his sensual lips, sharp features, and his long nose. She liked everything about him and the thought of making love with him thrilled her deeply. It was not just the prospect of sexual gratification, no, it was more than that, deeper. Marianne wanted him, wanted him beyond simply tonight. That thought scared her and excited her. She smiled and leaned in, kissing him in a slow, sensual kiss that said more than her words could at this moment. 

Bog reached up to cup the side of her face, leaning into her. He returned her kiss, the passion between them building quickly again, the fire reigniting in an instant, their awkwardness forgotten again while their lips and tongues became acquainted. 

Marianne moved to put herself partly on top of him. She hooked her leg around his thigh, her knee coming up just a little, just enough to feel him against her knee. She ran her hand down along his chest, brushing her fingers through the hair there before moving lower. She kissed him deeper, plunging her tongue into his mouth while her hand caressed his stomach, feeling the way Bog twitched at her touch. His skin was like satin, warm and soft. She ran her hands over his skin, caressing his belly before moving lower while she kissed him. The heat building quickly between them threatened to overflow. Marianne felt as if they were just barely holding back a flood. Her hand traced the line from his hip bone down to his groin where she stopped and brushed her fingers through the dark curling hair. She smiled against his mouth when she felt Bog jump, and groan. She flattened her hand out against the curling hair, threading her fingers through them, her fingers finding the base of his erection. She slid her fingers around his shaft and she smiled when she felt Bog tremble. 

Bog groaned against her mouth and reached up to grasp her shoulder with his free hand, his other arm around her waist. He moved his hand in a glide across her skin to cup her rear, squeezing the softness of her skin, pulling her closer all the while kissing her. He couldn’t stop kissing her, didn’t want to stop. He reached up to cup to the back of her head, luxuriated in feeling the softness of her hair between his fingers. He deepened their kissing even more until Marianne wrapped her hand around his erection, forcing Bog to drop his head back against the pillow with a deep groan of pleasure. 

Marianne smiled and bit her bottom lip. She had never seen anything in the world more sexy than the expression of pleasure on Bog’s face at this very moment. She moved her hand up and down his shaft, which felt hot in her hand. She rolled the pad of her thumb over the head of his erection, marveling at how hard he was, yet so soft. She stroked him, sliding her hand up and down while she moved to planting kisses on his chest, finding his hard nipple and circling her tongue around the nipple while her hand continued to stroke up and down his erection. She felt a drop of sticky fluid and ran her thumb over it, spreading the liquid across the head of his erection while she stroked him. Marianne watched his expression, his eyes partly closed, the blue glowing from beneath dark lashes. His mouth was parted, but then he would bite his bottom lip, the gesture killing her with how erotic it was...he was so gorgeous she thought, sexier than any man she had ever seen and he didn’t know it. Yeah, he wasn’t typical good looking, but he was so much better...so much more... 

Bog groaned again, screwing his eyes closed for a moment while she stroked her hand up and down. He hissed and stiffened as Marianne continued to stroke him; her hand was so soft wrapped around him. He jerked against the bed with a gasp, knowing if she continued... “Marianne...stop…” Bog squeezed her shoulder gently, looking at her through his lashes and begged her breathlessly. “Please.” 

Marianne grinned. She was torn between not wanting to stop (she wanted to watch him, watch the moment he came because damn he was beautiful), but she wanted to feel him inside her too, wanted to share herself with him. 

Bog caught Marianne’s face between his hands when she stopped, kissing her and pushing her onto her back. She went willingly, releasing him to grab his waist, letting herself fall back against the pillows, lost in his kiss. Bog’s weight pressed against her side. He didn’t roll on top of her like she was expecting, instead he settled down along her side, continuing to kiss her while one hand reached down to cup her breast. He squeezed gently, playing his thumb across her nipple. 

Marianne squirmed under him, a tickling heat that had been building in her groin from the moment they first kissed in the game room began to climb. She ached and the heat and throb between her legs was almost too much, especially with the attention he was focusing on her nipple. She didn’t know about other women, but that drove her wild with want. 

When Bog’s hand moved from her breast and began to travel down her torso, his fingers skimming over her belly, inching down to her groin where he caressed the dark curls, Marianne rubbed her legs together, the ache becoming unbearable. 

Bog stopped kissing her, only to drop his head to her breast, licking her nipple with a tongue that Marianne was certain was longer than most men’s tongues. Marianne groaned loudly. Bog wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Marianne gasped loudly, but at the same time Bog’s fingers snaked between her legs. Marianne hissed, her body stiffening in pleasure as he began to stroke over her, pressing his fingers down, using his longest finger to stroke up and down slowly--agonizingly slow. Marianne moaned and the one hand pinned between their bodies grabbed at the sheet underneath her, but with her free hand she cradled his head, her fingers lost in the thick darkness of his hair. 

Bog flicked his tongue over her nipple, stroking his fingers between her legs, feeling the wet heat of her, finding the sensitive spot that made Marianne jerk, her legs stiffening, her hips rising a little. Her breath became ragged and she groaned his name. 

“Bog...uh, yes Bog…” 

Bog switched breasts, continuing to stroke his fingers over her. He could feel her become tight, like a band about to snap until Marianne’s hand in his hair tightened into a fist and her body went stiff, followed by her crying out, her orgasm washing over her. Bog dipped his finger into her at the same time and Marianne cried out with pleasure. 

* 

In one of the other room, Sunny’s head popped out from under the sheet to look up at Dawn. “What was that?” 

Dawn giggled. “Ghosts or thunder.” 

Sunny smirked at her, placing a kiss on her hip. “Sounds like the ghosts are having fun too.” 

Dawn laughed, but as Sunny ducked back down under the covers, her laughter turned to groan of pleasure. 

* 

Marianne went limp. She had never had an orgasm like that and all Bog had done was touch her! She struggled for a few seconds to breathe normally. 

Bog smiled shyly. “Everything okay?” 

Marianne grinned at him. “Yep.” 

Bog blushed then pulled away. “Ah...I think I have a condom somewhere...give me a second…” 

Marianne nodded, watching him get up and head over to the desk. She grinned, her eyes on his impressive erection, then when he turned, pulling out a drawer on his desk she watched his backside. He searched around for a little bit before he turned holding up a condom package. “Tada. One of the cooks had his bachelor party here a few months ago and they gave out condoms as gag gifts...I think…” He looked at the package and winced. “Ah...it, um...glows in the dark.” Bog looked embarrassed, but Marianne giggled. “Then you better turn off the lights,” she said. 

Bog laughed walking over to the lamp. “Okay…” 

Marianne pushed up on her elbows to watch him put the condom on. Why was that sexy? It was...And next time she wanted to put the condom on him. She giggled silently, next time...there was going to be a next time, several she decided. 

Once Bog had the condom on, he glanced over at her, his hand on the light. “Ready?” 

Marianne giggled. “Yes.” 

Bog took a deep breath and turned the light out. There was a flash of lightning at the same time, but the condom was in fact glowing fluorescent green. 

Bog snorted. “Oh god.” 

Marianne burst out laughing. “I love it! Come here!” 

Bog chuckled. “I’m never going to live this down…” 

Bog crawled onto the bed and into Marianne’s arms. She kissed him, pulling him to her. Bog settled between her legs, wrapping his arms around her head, his fingers in her hair, kissing her in a slow, passionate way that burned through her entire being. 

Bog reached down and brushed himself against her. Marianne raised her hips slightly… 

She groaned against his mouth when he slid into her. 

Bog pressed his forehead to hers, pushing up onto his hands and arching his back to press into her. He didn’t move at first, both of them suspended in the moment. He looked into her eyes and Marianne was lost. She was in love. She knew deep down this wasn’t just a one night stand, he was it, Bog was it...she had found him, her soulmate. This castle, this place that she loved had been the home to the man she was meant to be with...it all made such perfect sense. 

Bog stared back at her and knew he couldn’t lose her. He wanted her to be his girl, he wanted to share everything he loved about his castle, this island with her...his mother had always told him when the right girl came along, he would know, it would be a spark, and damn it if she wasn’t right. 

He whispered to her. “I love you.” He didn’t need to add I think, or I might be...no...he didn’t care if it didn’t make any sense, if they had known each other for less than a day. He knew, he loved her or he would not be making love with her right now. He might regret this in the morning in the harsh light of day, but at this moment, he knew he was in love. 

Marianne brushed her fingers through his hair and whispered back. “I love you too.” 

They kissed, slow and deep before Bog began to move, thrusting into her in slow, deep waves. Marianne groaned, holding onto him, grasping his arms, sliding her hands up to his shoulders before moving her hands to his sides and reaching down to grab his rear, pulling him toward her. She hooked her legs around his and thrust her pelvis up to meet him while they kissed, the heated breath mixing together while they made love. 

Bog groaned, resting his forehead against hers. His movements continued to be slow, deep and steady, but it was difficult for him. She felt so good, so wet, warm...her skin smelled fantastic, and he loved the feel of her mouth, her tongue. He dug his fingers into the bed… 

Marianne arched. With each thrust, Bog found her sensitive spots, pressing and stroking her until she was dizzy with pleasure. Her breathing turned into quick pants as he brought her closer and closer until she crested and cried out, stars bursting into fireworks and goddamn rainbows, she was sure of it! 

Bog grunted when Marianne came. He wanted to hold back, he wanted to make her orgasm and and again, but he couldn’t hold back. When her climax made her tighten around him, Bog cried out. He felt as if everything was being torn from him and given to her. Everything he was, was for Marianne, his sweet Marianne… 

Bog sagged against her. It was the best feeling in the world Marianne thought with a grin. She lazily stroked his hair, her fingers caressing his sharp cheekbones, along his ear, and in his hair while her other hand caressed his shoulder. 

“Sorry I didn’t last longer,” Bog murmured against her throat. 

Marianne giggled. “Don’t be, that was fantastic…” 

Bog kissed her jaw. “Next time will be longer.” 

Marianne kissed his forehead. “And next time...and next time…” 

Bog chuckled, rolling off of her. “Be right back.” 

She smiled, watching him grab some tissues from the bedside table and dispose of the condom before he came back into bed. She snuggled up against him when he laid down, placing her head on his chest. Bog held her tight, stroking her arm… 

Neither of them realized how tired they were, how much they had taken--yet given as well. As rain slashed against the old castle, they fell asleep. 

* 

Roland looked around, his eyes narrowed as he crept up the stairs toward the family quarters of the castle. When he had realized that Marianne and her sister were not among the guests, Roland had grown suspicious. He had asked one of the staff who had pretended to know nothing, but Roland was sure Marianne had gotten herself a cozy room with her own bed...bitch. 

He smiled. But maybe with a little of the old Roland Knight magic, he could get himself a bed too and maybe a little fun on the side with Marianne. Or maybe even Aura. He was sure Aura was into him, no matter how snitty she was too him, and older gals knew some neat tricks too, so that might be fun. He smirked. It would be great if it was Marianne he got though, fuck her right under the nose of that asshole tour guide who fancied himself what? Her boyfriend now? They had just met and were already acting like some stupid couple. Hell, maybe he could do the rounds and have both in one night. 

Roland grinned. Of course, Marianne had punched him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still win her over. After all, he was Roland Knight, the city’s beloved Golden Boy and getting women was part of who he was after all. 

Roland grinned happily as he made the first hall and started to wander around. There had to be several bedrooms up here, he thought. A place this size had to have beds to spare. He couldn’t figure out why they were being such selfish pricks. It was that long legged cockroach douchebag he was supposed in interview. Roland made a disgusted face at the thought of Bog King. People that ugly definitely shouldn’t be allowed to breed he thought absently. 

As he creeped along a hallway, Roland saw a light and heard talking in a room down from where he was. He stopped and listened. It was the old hag who owned the castle and Aura… He frowned and moved carefully, making his way down a hall away from them… 

He found a living room, or maybe a gameroom, and moved on. He heard voices behind the next door he found...he pressed his ear against the door and listened...Yeah, that sounded like Dawn and her boyfriend. Marianne had to be close then and there had to be another bedroom or two… 

The next room he found was empty, looked like a study, and the following room was a bedroom, but it was empty; there was no sign that anyone had been in the room at all. 

Roland frowned. Where the hell was she? 

He moved on, turning down another hall, passing another couple of rooms, a library, another bedroom, a bathroom, until he found the last door at the end of the hall. He put his ear to the door, but he didn’t hear anything at all. He frowned and reached for the knob, opened the door slowly. He poked his head around the door’s edge. The room was dark, but the occasional flash of lightning lit up the room, allowing Roland to get a glimpse of the two naked people in the bed, Bog King and Marianne… 

“What the fuck!” Roland flipped on the lightswitch at the same time he flung the door open and walked in. 

Bog and Marianne both came awake with a start. 

Bog rubbed his eyes, muttering darkly. “Blyat!” 

Marianne rubbed her eyes too, looking confused. “What? ROLAND!” She gasped yanking the sheet up to cover herself. 

Bog blinked followed by a snarl. “Ye blaigeard, what the fuck are you doing in my room?!” 

Roland pointed. “What the fuck are you doing in bed with my…” 

Marianne snarled pointing a finger at Roland and interrupted him. “Don’t you dare!! Don’t!” 

Bog got up, grabbing one of the blankets off the bed, wrapping it around his waist, quickly tucking it in to free both his hands. Marianne was both turned on by the blanket around Bog’s waist. (Mm...she thought...togas…) And she felt a tingle upon seeing the fire in Bog’s eyes. Yeah, it was a bit “primitive” of her, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing Bog ready to beat Roland’s ass was a huge turn on. 

Bog snarled, stalking over to Roland. Even with just a thin blanket around his waist, he looked intimidating, especially since he was beyond simple anger. “Get the fuck out of my room, you хуесос!” 

Roland puffed out his chest, though the reporter felt a little intimidated by Bog. The man looked beyond just pissed. Even just wearing a blanket, the tall Russian-Scotsman looked ready to murder him. But Roland hadn’t gotten where he was by cowering or backing down. Sometimes the best defense was a faked offense. “What the fuck are you doing, fucking one of your customers?!! Wait until I report on how you sexually harassed her and got her to sleep with you. You and your stupid castle are gonna be sunk buddy. You’ll be lucky to get crabs to come visit your stupid castle.” 

Roland laughed. “This is great!” 

Marianne gasped. “You liar! That is not what happened at all. I wanted to sleep with him!” 

Roland made a disgusted face. “Is this some sort of weird fetish thing for you Marianne? Liked this castle so much, but since you can’t fuck a castle you went with the very next thing, the owner’s ugly kid?” 

Bog snarled. His better judgement told him to just escort Roland out, but insulting Marianne had been the third or fourth step too far. Bog threw a punch, hitting Roland in the cheek hard enough that he knocked the blonde man right off his feet. 

Roland was dazed. No one had even hit him before--he always avoided fights! Usually the woman who the fight was about put herself between him and whoever the guy was or he managed to keep the confrontations in front of superiors or other people that Roland knew had his back, but this time… 

Getting hit hurt! 

Roland got to his feet. “You fucking hit me! I’m gonna sue you!! I’m gonna sue you and your stupid mother and…” 

Bog snarled. “Fine, then hitting you again won’t make a difference then will it?” 

Bog swung, Roland ducked (surprising himself), he tried to take a swing at Bog, but Bog knew how to fight, between being Scottish and Russian, always being the tall gangly, ugly new kid who people liked to pick on. Bog had learned how to fight, knew how to defend himself. When Roland swung at him, Bog snapped his hand up, blocked and grabbed Roland’s wrist. He yanked his arm down across his body, at the same time Bog brought his other arm up and under Roland’s to slam the back of his hand against Roland’s shoulder, holding Roland’s arm immobile. In the next second, Bog punched Roland in his already damaged nose, this time breaking it. 

Roland let out a high pitched cry of pain. 

There was a bright burst of white light, at the same time a roar of thunder with an explosion that shook the window in Bog’s room. 

Marianne screamed in surprise. 

The lights went out, plunging everything into darkness. 

Bog cursed in indecipherable Russian and Gaelic mixed with the rumble of thunder.


	4. Settling things

“What happened?” Marianne called out in the dark. A flash of lightning illuminated her in the bed for a moment, making her look like one of those damsels in distress from a gothic horror movie. 

Bog had turned and could see her for just a moment, her eyes wide; her skin looked like porcelain in the crack of lighting. The storm outside sounded stronger and Bog was sure he could hear hail mixed in with the rain. A loud rumble filled the room a moment later. 

Roland was lying on the floor whimpering, his hand over his broken and bloody nose while Bog snarled, looking toward the window just as another flash of lightning coruscated across the cloud churning night sky. 

“The generator went out, sounded like lighting struck the ground outside.” Bog growled with a shake of his head. “Damn it. I’ve got to go check it out, see if I can get it back on.” 

Marianne heard Bog step closer. She reached out just as he came up along her side of the bed. “Where’s the generator?” she asked touching his arm. 

Bog reached over and took her hand. “It’s outside, in one of the maintenance buildings.” 

“I’m coming with you.” Marianne looked up at him and Bog smiled. 

“You don’t have to, the storm is pretty bad out there…” 

“I know I don’t, but you might need help,” Marianne said with determination. 

Marianne saw Bog’s smile when the flash of lightning reflected into the room. “I have a flashlight…” Bog turned his attention to the table by the bed and pulled out a flashlight, flicking it on. He panned the beam around the room to where Roland still sat on the ground near the open door. 

“Give me a minute,” he said to Marianne. “Then we can get dressed and head out.” He handed her the flashlight with a smile. “I don’t really need it--know my way around in the dark.” 

She nodded, using the flashlight to watch Bog march across the room, still in his blanket skirt. He reached down and grabbed Roland under the arm, hauling the wounded journalist easily to his feet. 

“Come on,” Bog growled at Roland who weakly shrugged with a smug expression. 

“Where are you taking me?” Roland muttered. 

Bog hissed through clenched teeth. “Out of my room so Marianne can dress.” 

Marianne heard voices out in the hall, one of whom was her sister. “What happened?” Dawn’s question was followed by a squeak and Dawn yelping. “Where are your clothes? And what happened to Roland?” 

Roland wailed. “He hit me!” 

Bog snarled, sounding not the least bit apologetic. “This fuck snuck up here into our private home and into my room! Yer lucky I didn’t have a gun you asshole!” 

Sunny exclaimed. “What the fuck?” 

Marianne heard additional voices, thought she heard Griselda, but they were moving down the hall and away from her, so she couldn’t hear what was going on. 

Marianne scrambled around to find her clothing, yanking them on as quickly as she could before hurrying out into the hall. She followed the sound of voices, using her flashlight to guide her, and finally arriving at the family dining room where she could see the flicker of candlelight. She walked in to find Griselda, Aura, Sunny, Dawn, Bog and Roland. 

Griselda saw her and smiled. “Marianne…” 

His mother, who was in the process along with Dawn of lighting several candles that were setting on the kitchen table, glanced between her mostly naked son and Marianne, lifting an eyebrow at her, a smirk on the older woman’s lips. Marianne turned red, but she smiled back as she hurried over to Bog. 

Aura examined Roland’s nose with a chuckle. “Yes, he broke your nose, all right,” she was saying. 

Roland snarled waving the bloody rag he had been holding on to his nose at Bog. “I’m gonna sue!! I’m going to take your stupid castle and…” 

Aura interrupted the blonde man. “Roland, shut up. You’ll be lucky if the Kings don’t sue you. You came into their home uninvited and you snuck into Bog’s bedroom. He’s right, he would have been within his rights to shoot you. So if I were you, I would shut my mouth.” 

Roland looked like a petulant child, but thankfully Marianne thought, he snapped his mouth shut as Aura stood up and turned to Griselda. “Do you have a first aid kit up here?” 

Grisealda nodded. “Yes, in the main bathroom…” 

“I know where that is.” Aura turned to Roland. “Sit tight.” 

Sunny spoke up. “I’ll go find the nurse downstairs and let the guests know what’s going on.” 

Griselda smiled. “Thank you dear.” 

Sunny took off with a flashlight. 

Roland didn’t say anything, but he glared at everyone in turn. 

Bog turned to his mother. “Lightning strike hit the grounds I think. I’m going to get dressed and head out to see if I can get the generator going again.” 

Marianne piped up. “I'm going to go with him.” 

Griselda nodded. “Good, just be careful though. It sounds like it’s hailing some and the wind sounds to have picked up.” 

“We will Mam.” Bog smiled at his mother. “I’ll stop by and check on the guests too.” 

Griselda nodded. “Well, first you should go put something on…” 

Bog only then seemed to realize that he had been wearing a blanket around his waist this entire time. His face turned red, his eyes widening with embarrassment before he hurried off. 

Marianne turned to follow, but Griselda caught her arm gently. 

“So, ah...you and my boy….” Griselda began, causing Marianne to blush again and nod. “Yes...ah...I was...we were…” 

Roland snarled, holding the blood rag to his nose. “They were naked! They were fucking! I saw them! Bog was taking advantage of her!” 

Marianne gave Roland a glare that was even more effective since the candlelight cast her features in deep shadows. “Roland, do yourself a favor and shut up.” 

Roland glared back, but the gesture only made him look more petulant and childish, while Marianne turned back to Griselda, aware that her sister was there and that Aura had returned with the first aid kit. 

“We slept together, yes. And I would do it again. I plan on doing it again,” Marianne said softly, but with dignity. 

Roland made a disgusted noise with Aura hissing. “Roland, don’t make me slap you.” 

Griselda beamed. “How would you feel about working here?” 

Marianne blinked in surprise at the sudden question. “What?” 

“Well, if you and my son are going to be galavanting around, which I highly approve of by the way, and you love this place, and you love my son...why not?” Griselda’s smile and nod seemed to 

Marianne to hold matronly approval. 

(Her not so secret wish for a wedding and grandkids had just taken a leap forward instead of baby steps which had Griselda excited for the possibilities in the future--her dreams of being a grandmother were close!) 

Griselda reached over and squeezed Marianne’s shoulder in a sweet motherly fashion. “You don’t have to answer right now my dear, but think about it.” 

Marianne looked stunned, but she murmured, “Thank you.” 

Dawn grinned glancing over at Griselda. “Marianne’s going to say yes. She’s loved this place for as long as I can remember. A chance to work here is something she has always wanted…” 

Marianne glanced between her sister and Griselda. “I do love this place, I always have, but…” 

Griselda smiled. “Right now is not the time to discuss this. Go on, go help Bog--we’ll talk about it later.” 

Marianne smiled and quickly left, heading in the direction that Bog had gone. 

Griselda turned to Dawn. “Do you think she’ll take the job?” 

Dawn smiled while she set out a couple of more flashlights on the table she had found while looking in the kitchen drawers. While she worked to check each flashlight, Dawn answered with a smile. 

“Of course she will! She loves this place, but can you afford…” Dawn glanced over at Griselda, though it was Aura who spoke. 

“After I conduct the interview, you guys will have so much business you’ll be turning away boat loads of guests.” 

Roland hissed. “You doing the interview? What are you talking about? This is my gig! And the public has a right to know what kind of shitshow this place is! How the staff takes advantage of the guests! How...” 

Aura had removed Roland’s hand with the bloody rag and was cleaning his nose. She dabbed a little too hard and Roland let out a pained yelp. “I will perform the interview, because Roland, you just put not only yourself, but the studio in danger of a lawsuit with your irresponsible behavior. And if you persist, then the network will be forced to let you go.” Aura gave him a superior smile 

“You can’t do that! I’m Roland Knight! I’m the face of the channel! People love me!” Roland protested, but Aura only smiled. “Roland, honey, you are the face, but I have the connections, and the friends. I’m not the one who stepped on people climbing the ladder of success and dear...I also have the power. You keep this up, you’ll be lucky to be hosting a local cable show.” 

Roland snapped his mouth closed, but he was clearly fuming. 

Aura simply smiled. 

* 

Marianne knocked lightly on Bog’s door waiting until he called. “Come in!” She stepped into the room with a small smile forming on her lips. 

Bog had lit a few candles in the room. Marianne moved her flashlight over to see the he had just pulled on a pair of jeans inside of his kilt and was grabbing a t-shirt from his closet when she came in. 

“Hey,” she said softly. 

Bog turned at the same time as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Marianne grinned, admiring his torso, the way the jeans rode on his hips. She shivered ready to take him back to the bed. His head popped through the top of the t-shirt and he smiled. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, running his fingers quickly through his hair before grabbing his boots and flopping down on the side of the bed to put them on. 

“Oh yeah, ah...Bog...your mom just asked me if I would like to work here,” Marianne said in a quiet voice. 

Bog blinked and smiled. “She did?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah.” 

Bog frowned, going still in the middle of pushing his foot into his boot. “What did you say?” 

“I haven’t said anything yet. She said we could discuss it later, but...ah…” Marianne came over and sat down next to him. “What do you think?” 

Bog shoved his foot into the boot and laced it, not saying anything until he grabbed the other boot. He didn’t look at her as he spoke quietly. 

“I would like that very much. I mean, you working here. I would love to get the chance to know you better and...well…” Bog pushed his foot into the other boot and let his foot drop to the floor. He turned, took the flashlight from her, and set it aside. He took her hands in his, holding them in a gentle, secure grip. Marianne could barely see his face in the flickering light of the candles, but his blue eyes seemed to glow. 

“I meant what I said when we made love. I love you, I’m falling in love with you and I want to be in love with you. I want to know everything about you, all the things that make you laugh, what makes you cry, and what makes you angry. I want to spend evenings with you in bed, cuddled together, talking about the future, books, or nothing at all. I want to discuss my thesis with you, I want you to talk about and discuss your school work with me. I want to argue with you about dinner and whether the dog gets to sleep on the bed or not.” 

Marianne giggled. “A dog?” 

Bog grinned. “Yes, if you want one. I want to play Mario Kart with you, I want to eat pizza with you, I want to hold you when you are sick, and I want to walk along the shore holding your hand.” 

Bog swallowed closing his eyes for a moment as he said softly. “I want a future with you with all the highs and lows that a life together entails.” 

Marianne’s chin was trembling and while she tried not to cry, tears rolled down her cheeks regardless of her efforts. 

“I would like all of that too Bog,” Marianne said softly. “I want all of that with you.” 

Bog gazed at her again, a smile on his lips. “So, will you take the job?” 

Marianne squeezed his hands. “Yes, yes I will.” 

Bog’s smile lit a fire in her heart that spread through Marianne’s whole body. He tugged her gently to him, letting go of her hands to reach up and cradle her face and kissed her. Marianne grasped his waist, returning his kiss. She felt his kiss radiate through every fiber of her being. This she knew, was what real love felt like. Bog didn’t offer her the moon or the stars, but he offered her rainy nights in a big bed, pizza and arguments. He offered her walks in the halls of a castle and nights of laughter. It was all she ever wanted. 

Bog pulled his lips away from hers reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers, while his hands still cradled her face, his thumbs stroking across her cheeks. 

“I suppose we should go get wet and see if I can fix the generator.” Bog sighed. 

Marianne giggled. “When you’re done, we can curl into bed together, maybe make love again.” 

Bog caressed her jaw. His eyes were so beautiful and so very blue Marianne thought, his voice, his accent made her shiver with pleasure when he whispered. “There is nothing in the world I would rather do.” 

He kissed her nose, pressed his forehead against hers for a moment longer before he stood up. “I think I have a jacket in here that won’t completely swallow you and there are a couple of umbrellas by the door…” 

Marianne stood. “Let’s go.” 

* 

When Bog and Marianne walked out into the storm, the wind was strong enough that Marianne thought she might be blown off her feet. It felt cold, the wind and rain were both chilly, causing her to shiver despite the jacket. Bog caught her when a gust of wind caused her to stumble back, putting a steadying arm around her shoulders. Marianne smiled leaning against him and Bog gave her shoulders a squeeze, kissing the top of her head at the same time. They had just assured the castle staff and guests that the power would soon be coming back on. 

Marianne had one of Bog’s older motorcycle jackets on, a scuffed up black leather affair with the zippers and chains. It almost hung to her knees. It was heavy, but water repellent and warm. She had an umbrella, but the wind was whipping around so much that the umbrella wasn’t doing much except becoming a means for the wind to yank at her. 

Bog stood beside her without an umbrella. He had on another jacket, a simple light windbreaker which she knew couldn’t be keeping the cold out, and barely the rain, but he didn’t seem to notice as he shone the flashlight beam out into the night. Marianne looked up at him. The rain had plastered his dark hair down, but damn if he didn’t look sexy she thought, with the water running down his sharp cheekbones and off his pointed chin. She smiled. The man could be wearing a paper bag, covered in mud, and he would be sexy she realized. Maybe even sexier all rain soaked and muddy. She smiled wider, her heart doing a little dance of love and happiness. 

Bog panned his light out. With the generator down, the island was pitch black, the only light coming from the occasional burst of lightning streaking across the night sky. It was a little frightening how absolutely and utterly dark it was without electricity, Marianne realized, and oddly quiet even with the storm. She never noticed it before, but with the power out, the steady background hum of power that came from electricity was gone. She felt it was all a little spooky. 

Bog pointed off to the left. “The building with the generator is this way. Just stay close to me, hold my hand, or you can hold on to the back of my jeans, but you don’t want to get lost out here. Even with the flashlights, when it's this dark, your eyes can play tricks on you.“ 

He looked up, squinting against the rain, and wiping at his face before he murmured. “Let’s get going.” 

Marianne nodded, closed the umbrella, and tossed it back through the doorway they had just come through. She grabbed Bog’s hand. He looked down at her with a smile and the two of them made their way to the building that held the generator. 

* 

Bog kept a hold of Marianne’s hand as they made their way through the storm. Marianne squinted into the rain and noticed some of the damage already. The wind had blown branches off trees and there were tiny bits of hail on the ground acting like marbles, all of them combining to make the walk from the castle to the building that housed the generator dangerous. Bog was moving quickly, but trying to keep his steps measured to allow Marianne to keep up. He didn’t want to drag her along by accident, but it was hard not to hurry. The wind was strong, whipping them both around, threatening to knock them off their feet. Bog was trying to protect his face as well as keeping the flashlight forward, but he couldn’t do both and keep a hold of Marianne. He gave up, and kept the light beam in front of him. 

The storm had begun to pick up, rain falling in heavy sheets of cold water. The wind howled across the island, lightning dancing across the sky, followed by ear-splitting cracks of thunder that made Marianne yelp and jerk in response. At one point, one of the trees along the path they were following fell over. 

Bog spun around and wrapped his arms around Marianne to protect her. The sound of the tree falling--seeing it fall--made the blood in her veins run cold. She hadn’t really appreciated just how dangerous what they were doing was until that moment when the tree fell. 

Bog called out. “Are you all right?” He cupped her face with one hand. At this point, the rain had already soaked them both. Marianne looked up, cupping his hand with hers. “Yes. I’m all right. Are you?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, but we need to keep moving. Standing still will be like asking the lightning to strike us or something to fall on us or the wind to blow us into the water! I’m going to pick you up and run.” 

“Can’t lightning strike you while you're moving?” Marianne asked and Bog nodded. “Yeah, but why stop and give it a good target? Make mother nature work for it.” 

They both laughed. 

Marianne yelled. “I can run Bog.” 

He nodded and shouted over the storm. “I know, but I’m faster--longer legs and all. And I know the way. You just get on my back, hold the flashlight for me, okay?” 

Marianne smiled and nodded. Bog turned, putting his flashlight in the pocket of his jacket and squatted. Marianne climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Bog stood, grabbed her legs, which Marianne wrapped around his slender middle. 

He took off at a jog after Marianne grabbed the flashlight and aimed it ahead of them. 

The jog from the castle to the generator building took them a dangerous few minutes in which Bog held onto Marianne firmly, dodging branches that came out of the darkness at them on the wind, but by the time they arrived at a stone building made to look like a miniature stone cottage (Marianne assumed housed the generator), the storm was beginning to die down. The rain was still coming down in heavy, cold sheets, but the lightning flashed with diminishing frequency and the thunder was beginning to sound further and further away. Bog set Marianne on her feet and pulled a ring of keys from his front jeans pocket. He slipped a key into the lock, opening the door and holding it open for Marianne, slipping inside after her. 

The generator inside made Marianne think of a steam engine. It had a look about it like an old locomotive engine. Bog took the flashlight from Marianne and walked around while Marianne stayed out of the way. 

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. 

Bog called out. “Yeah, can you hold the flashlight beam over here for me…” 

Marianne hurried over while Bog set his flashlight down. She watched as he flipped a switch, did a few other things...She reminded herself to ask him how to work the generator. If she was going to work here (the thought made her giddy with pleasure), she needed to know the ins and outs of everything, including the generators. 

After a few minutes of Bog doing...stuff...the generator roared to life. Marianne had to admit that she was about as technically inclined as a monkey. 

Bog wiped his hands on his jeans and grinned at her with pleasure. “There, we should have power back now. How about a hot shower, some hot cocoa, and bed?” 

Marianne nodded. “Sounds perfect.” 

Bog closer to her and took Marianne’s hand, the two of them walking out into the rain when Roland came out of the shadows and slugged Bog across the jaw. Bog grunted in pain, dropping his flashlight. 

Marianne let out a startled yelp as Bog staggered, yanking her with him before he was able to let go of her hand, his flashlight clattering on the path and twisting around in the rain. 

“Bog!” she said in surprise and turned to the blonde man. “Roland!! What are you doing out here?” Marianne shouted, turning her flashlight on Roland. 

Roland, drenched to the skin by the rain, his nose bandaged up and looking like a maniac, growled. His words coming out in a nasal tone as the beam from his flashlight shook. “I’m here for some pay back! You want to settle this man to man Bog King? Right here, right now!” 

“Roland, what is wrong with you?” Marianne asked in clear confusion. 

Roland glared at her and stabbed a finger at Bog. “HIM!! He’s what’s wrong with me!! He made me look like a fool, he took my girl, he…” 

“Oh now, hold up there Roland! I am not your girl, I haven’t been your girl in a long damn time and I won’t ever be your girl again,” Marianne said in a firm tone. “I don’t know what you’ve got going on in that head of yours, but we are through--we’ve been through! I’m the one who hit you in front of everyone, not Bog anyway, so you should be wanting to fight me, not him.” 

Roland pouted slightly. “Well...it doesn’t matter!! This...this cockroach hit me! He broke my nose!! Do you have any idea what it's going to cost me to get my nose fixed?! He’s ruined my only form of making money--MY FACE!!!” Roland stomped his foot, sending water splashing. “My FACE!!” He balled his hands into fists. “I’m going to make him pay for that.” 

Marianne started to say something else, putting herself between Bog and Roland, but Bog put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

“It’s okay Marianne, I’ll fight him if that’s what he wants,” Bog said in a calm tone. 

“But, this is so stupid! It’s like some overly macho bullshit from an 80’s movie or something,” Marianne said with a shake of her head. 

Bog turned Marianne around to face him, his hands resting on her shoulders, her flash light beam casting his face in shadows, though his blue eyes shone in the light. 

“I agree, it’s stupid macho yerunda, but he’s a fool. One of my grandmothers used to say Durakám zakón ne písan...basically Roland doesn’t think rules apply to him and he'll just keep coming back until I put him in his place now.” He smiled and tilted Marianne’s face up, ducking down to kiss her. 

Marianne forgot about the rain, about Roland, about everything except Bog’s kiss. She knew without a doubt she would never become tired of kissing him. Bog brushed his long nose against hers with a smile as he stepped back and turned to Roland. 

“All right ye scrote, let’s get this over with.” Bog pulled his jacket off, then his shirt over his head, dropping the wet garments to the ground and held up his fists. 

(Marianne thought she might have a heart attack when he saw Bog, shirtless in the flashlight beam, water rolling down his torso...Oh my heart, she thought with a smile to herself.) 

Roland narrowed his eyes, but at the same time his heartrate picked up. He hadn’t really expected Bog to agree to fight. He had thought Marianne would stop him or at least put up more of a resistance than she had! 

“Fine, you ugly fuck!” Roland yelled, dropping his flashlight and charging Bog. 

Marianne took a quick step back, holding the flashlight on the two of them as Roland ran at Bog. 

Bog rolled his shoulders and as Roland came at him, Bog threw his right fist to catch Roland in the temple. Roland’s feet slid on the wet ground, and along with the impact of Bog’s fist, he fell back and landed on his ass. 

Bog took several bouncing steps back, flexing the fingers of the hand he had just hit Roland with. The impact hurt his knuckles, but he didn’t show any pain except for flexing his fingers. He stayed out of the way as Roland got to his feet. 

Roland glared at Bog the two men moved around each other in the rain. Roland came in close, but Bog’s arm shot out; his longer reach allowed him to hit Roland in his mouth. Roland cried out ,grabbing at his mouth, his fingers coming back bloody. 

“You fucking ass!” Roland yelled. 

Bog shrugged. “You wanted this fight Roland.” 

Roland came in quickly, and this time though he landed a hit, catching Bog across the chin. Bog swung to the side with the hit. 

Roland threw his arms in the air. “Yes!!” 

Bog grinned at him running his tongue along his blood lip. “Hey, everyone gets a lucky shot once in a while.” 

(Marianne felt just a tad ashamed of herself for getting as turned on as she was watching Bog, but damn it if she wasn’t excited and ready to take him to bed again!!) 

Roland huffed and came at Bog again. Roland threw his fist as hard as he could, his punch landing against Bog’s sides, followed by several more. Roland put all he could into his punches, but Bog tensed his torso, taking the strikes as if they meant nothing, had no effect on him whatsoever. Roland’s face went pale. His strikes to the taller man didn’t seem to do anything. Either he was that weak or Bog was that tough--or both--and he had just made one of the worst mistakes of his life. 

Bog grinned, the flashlight catching his crooked tooth smile, his teeth bloody, his bottom lip slightly swollen, rain water mixing with the blood, and Roland knew he was about to regret everything he had done since he walked onto the island. 

Bog flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders again, and moved around with that sort of bouncing gait that some boxers have, waiting for Roland to make the next move. 

Without any other option that he could see available to him, Roland threw another punch at the tall man’s face, which Bog easily ducked. Bog responded by throwing his fist up in an uppercut, catching Roland under the chin with enough force that he sent Roland up off his feet, but just as Roland would have landed on the path, slamming his head into the ground. Bog caught him by the arms and yanked Roland up, saving the blonde from a nasty fall. 

Roland winced, opening his mouth and rolling his jaw. “I think you broke one of my teeth!” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “Yer lucky a broken nose and tooth is all you’re going to get. Now go.” 

Bog spun Roland around and shoved him toward the castle, which was now lit up like Christmas, glowing invitingly in the rain. 

Roland frowned looking back at Bog. He stopped moving. Marianne had hurried over to Bog, taking his hand, standing beside him, a united front against Roland. 

Roland hissed. “I hate you. I hate you both.” 

Marianne grinned back at him. “Well, the feeling is mutual.” 

Bog growled. “This whole thing is over Roland. I’m willing to forget about your foolishness, but if you try to ruin us or try to seek legal action, I will destroy you in court. You think me punching you is bad, you have no idea what will happen to your reputation in a court of law.” 

Roland glared. It was clear he wanted to say something, some witty retort, but he had nothing. Instead he simply turned and stalked back to the castle. 

Bog sagged next to her. 

Marianne looked up at Bog who gave her a weak smile back, water dripping off his nose and running down his face as he whispered. “I was bluffing there, I have no idea what would happen in court.” 

Marianne giggled. “That was hot, and not just the fight. All of it was hot. You’re hot,” she said softly, causing Bog to blush followed by an embarrassed laugh. 

“Nah, just when yer always the new kid, you learn to fight.” He shrugged. “Roland was mostly hot air, and the last bit there, that was just me hoping I was reading him right.” He glanced toward Roland’s retreating figure. “Just counting on his reputation means more to him than a school yard fight.” 

Bog and Marianne began walking, their hands clasped together. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to treat you to a congratulatory shower and some snuggling for beating his ass.” She gave Bog an adorable, wicked smile. 

Bog laughed. “I hardly beat his ass, that was more of a scuffle than a real fight.” 

Marianne nodded. “True, Roland can’t fight. You would have demolished him. It wasn’t just the fight, I saw what you did, saving him from falling and possibly hitting his head. You could have let him drop, but you saved him Bog.” 

Bog shook his head. “Nah, just saving the castle. He got too hurt, he could sue us…” 

Marianne gave him a look that told Bog she wasn’t falling for his bullshit. She said simply and with a smile. “You are a knight…” She giggled. “Goes with the castle.” 

Bog snorted swinging her hand a little as they rain fell lighter. “I’m hardly a knight...more of a King.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Marianne laughed. 

* 

The rest of the night went by without further incident. 

Roland retreated to his cot to sulk, his job intact as long as he didn’t try to hurt the King family in any way. Aura had said she wouldn’t bring his behavior up, and instead his face would be chalked up to an accident that involved him running out into the storm when he went to help Bog with the generator. He didn’t come out a hero in that scenario, but he also didn’t come off as an idiot who stalked someone during a storm in order to try to pick a fight either. 

After everyone was settled again, the power returned, Bog and Marianne took a hot shower together. 

* 

Bog smiled, his arms wrapped around Marianne as the steaming water rained down softly over the both of them. 

Bog closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Mm...this feels good.” 

Marianne kissed his wet chest. “It does. I could get used to this.” 

Bog smiled kissing her forehead. “So, I was thinking, why don’t you do the interview in the morning with me?” 

Marianne frowned. “Why? I mean I would love to, but what could I contribute?” 

Bog smiled as water dripped off his nose, water also running down his chest and shoulders in a way that made her body come alive with need. “You know as much about this castle as I do--or nearly as much. Since you are now an employee, and a very pretty one too, much more interesting to look at than ugly old me...it would help encourage guests wanting to visit the castle if the viewers realized that Lurch here came with a Morticia…” 

She laughed and playfully smacked his wet chest. 

Bog grinned at her. “...and, it would make me less nervous if you were beside me.” 

Marianne sighed happily, pressing herself close against him. “Then yes, I would love to do the interview with you.” 

Bog chuckled smiling. “You are going to look adorable in a kilt.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose smiling up at him. “No one could look as cute as you do in a kilt Bog King, no one.” 

He laughed before dipping down to kiss her.


	5. Epilogue

Six months later. 

Bog came walking at a brisk step down the path heading toward the stop for the bus that would be bringing the last group of tourists from the last boat of the season. Today was to be the last tour group before they shut the island down for winter. After the guests left they would be closing up the island and the castle until May. Bog was excited to have the grounds to himself again, especially now that Marianne was living here. 

Bog wore his kilt uniform, leather jacket and combat boots, looking the part of a tall Scotsman. The air off the water was chilly enough that Bog wouldn’t be surprised if they got snow soon. He smiled at the thought. He loved it when there was snow on the island, the quiet that settled over everything, and this year he would be sharing that with Marianne. Bog’s heart felt light with happiness. Six months ago he never thought he could be this happy. 

He was half way down the path near the bus stop when he heard the first notes of music. He grinned when he saw Dawn and Sunny positioned along the path. Sunny, dressed in a kilt and light sweater, sat on a bench strumming his guitar while Dawn, similarly dressed, sat beside him. Bog knew as soon as the guests began to make their way up the path toward the castle, Dawn would start singing. 

“How are you two this morning?” Bog waved as he came up alongside them. 

Sunny glanced at Dawn with a wide smile. “Well, my fiancee seems pretty happy this morning.” 

Dawn giggled, hugging Sunny’s arm. “Hey Bog. We’re doing fine. Ready for this to be the last tourists of the season!” 

Bog nodded. “Of course after today we’ll have to get ready for Thanksgiving since that's in only a little over a week and my mother invited a couple of cousins and I think one of my aunts is coming too…” Bog sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “This is going to be fun,” he said with just a hint of sarcasm. 

Dawn laughed. “Oh stop, it’ll be fun! Hey, where’s Marianne?” 

Bog frowned. Continuing to rub the back of his neck, he said, “I don’t know, she disappeared after breakfast.” 

Dawn frowned then glanced down the path. “Oh. The bus is here!” 

Sunny grinned and began to play. After the first few bars, Dawn joined in with her light and delicate voice. Bog gave them a quick wave and headed down to greet their guests. 

* 

Back at the castle, Marianne stared down at the pregnancy test strip in her hand. She had realized just last week that she was over two weeks late on her period. She had been feeling ill in the mornings, but she hadn’t really thought anything about it. She hadn’t been paying attention really what with how busy everything had been lately. After the interview that Aura conducted with Bog and Roland’s fall from grace at the news station (Roland was now confined to doing good news pieces, like going to county fairs and interviewing contestants at chicken shows), tourism to the castle and its island had skyrocketed. Then there had been the move here after Bog asked her to move in with him. This was followed by Dawn and Sunny moving into the castle too. 

After that, there had been the training to become a guide like Bog, followed by incredible nights of lovemaking with Bog. And lastly, both of them going back to school at the beginning of fall classes. Between classes, work, spending time with Griselda, Dawn, and Sunny--and Marianne’s fantastic evenings with Bog--she had been more than busy. There was only one night that Marianne could recall in whih they weren’t careful...they had made love in the gardens, Bog hadn’t had a condom and she had told him not to worry about it, to pull out, which he had done...but it was just one time…. 

But she had been so busy Marianne hadn’t been paying attention when she missed her period. 

Marianne stared at the strip in her hand waiting for it to give her the answer. She wasn’t sure which answer she wanted, pregnant or not pregnant, and she wasn’t sure which answer Bog would want either. 

Marianne stared at the pregnancy test, willing it to hurry up, but it was taking too long. she needed to get down to the bus to help Bog with the last group of guests for the season… 

Marianne grumbled and set the strip down on the sink. She figured she could get up here at lunch to grab it and see her results before Bog came up to their private rooms. He didn’t usually come up to their rooms during work hours, but she could probably slip away… 

She sighed, straightened her kilt and hurried out, leaving the pregnancy test on the sink. 

* 

The rest of the day proceeded as usual. 

Even though it was the end of the season, they still had quite a few tourists that day--perhaps because it was the last day of the season. As the long day wore on, Marianne pushed the thought of the pregnancy test to the back of her mind to focus on her work. By the time lunch rolled around Marianne was tired and starved, having completely forgotten about rushing back to their private bathroom to get the test. 

Bog took Marianne’s hands when they broke for lunch, heading to the back of the restaurant. “You okay?” he asked with a slight frown, looking down at her as they walked into the kitchens. 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, just hungry I think.” 

Bog nodded. “Well, Inez is making beef stew with potatoes kavardak for our lunch, sound good?” 

Marianne beamed. “Is she making those rolls of hers, you know those really fluffy ones to go with it?” 

Bog laughed. “Yes she is.” 

Marianne grinned. “That sounds great!” 

* 

Soon they were sitting outside with their big bowls of hot stew, rolls, two large glasses of ice tea, and a covered pot of hot coffee. 

Bog watched Marianne dig into her food. She always had a healthy appetite but there was something about the way she was digging into her lunch that made him wonder how hard she had worked today. He had noticed that she hadn’t eaten much breakfast lately; she was always a little sick in the morning for the last three weeks or so. Nothing horrible (she wasn't throwing up), but she was waking up looking pale and would usually only take some hot tea and toast. Then by the time lunch would roll around, Marianne would be starved. 

Bog frowned, moving his spoon around in his stew, wondering not for the first time lately if something was seriously wrong with her. He had mentioned her going to the doctor for a physical and she had promised to go, but she hadn’t made an appointment yet, and he was beginning to worry. Still, he couldn’t think of an illness that would make her sick in the mornings, yet starved and ravenous by afternoon. 

Marianne looked up at Bog with a frown. “You okay? Why aren’t you eating?” 

Bog smiled. “Sorry, just thinking.” 

Marianne grinned, pointing at Bog with her spoon. “No thinking--you need to eat.” 

Bog laughed. “Fine.” 

He dug into his stew, reaching under the table to squeeze her knee. Marianne smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkled, and Bog pushed aside any of his worries as simple anxiety. 

* 

They had just finished eating when Griselda stepped outside. She shivered and pulled her sweater around her as she hurried over to their table. “How can you kids sit outside like this? It’s freezing!” 

Bog laughed. “You’re getting old Mama.” 

Griselda chuckled, but smacked Bog on the shoulder. “Hush you! Anyway, I came out here to ask if you have any aspirin. I’m getting a headache and I am out…” 

Bog frowned for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I think we’ve got some upstairs…” he started to get up, but Griselda frowned. “Oh honey, you don’t have to run up there and get…” 

Bog stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Nonsense, it’ll just take me a minute. Be right back.” He winked at Marianne and took off. 

Griselda flopped down in his abandoned chair. “He’s always such a good boy.” 

Marianne nodded. “Bog’s a sweetheart.” 

Griselda looked over at Marianne with a slight frown. “You do something different with your hair?” 

Marianne shook her head. “Nope, why?” 

Grisleda wrapped her arms and sweater snugly around herself as she studied Marianne’s face. “I don’t know, something seems different about you…” 

Marianne grinned. “Maybe it's just because I’m happy?” 

Griselda smiled and reached over to lay her hand on Marianne’s arm, giving the younger woman’s arm a gentle squeeze before she slipped her hand back into the warmth of her sweater. “I’m so glad Marianne.You have no idea who much good it does me to see Bog so happy too. That boy had me worried, but then you came along...I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy, not even when he was a child.” 

Marianne blushed. “Well, he makes me…” Marianne’s brow creased as she searched for the correct phrase. “There needs to be a better word than happy. Bog just makes me feel...complete.” 

Marianne shrugged with a small smile. 

Griselda smiled in return and nodded. “I remember that feeling with Bog’s father. It was like I had found something that was missing.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, exactly. It’s like I’m whole now, with him.” 

* 

Bog hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He smirked a little, thinking about how his mother would yell at him when he was a kid that he was going to break his neck taking the stairs like that, but with his long legs, taking the stairs two at a time was sometimes easier on him. She still fussed at him now sometimes if she caught him taking the stairs his usual two at a time. He chuckled as he hit the landing and headed down the hall to the room he shared with Marianne, walking across the room and into the bathroom. 

He pulled open the medicine cabinet as soon as he walked into the bathroom and found the aspirin bottle. He reached for the bottle, but he didn’t quite grab it. Instead his fingertips hit the lid, which caused the bottle to tumble out and into the sink with a loud crash, but not before it knocked something off the sink 

“Damn it,” Bog muttered, pulling the bottle of aspirin out of the sink and setting it down on the edge before dropping down to find whatever it was he had knocked off the sink. 

Bog had to move out the trash out of the way before he found something...what looked like a plastic stick. Bog frowned. He had no idea what it was he had knocked off. 

He picked up the stick up and turned it over with confused expression, wondering what it was when he saw the two pink lines. Bog stared at it, not comprehending what he had found. He turned it over in confusion, trying to figure out what the stick was, then turned it back around to look at the two pink lines. As he looked at it, along the side the print read: pregnant, two lines. Not pregnant, one. Bog chewed his bottom lip, staring at the lines. It was several seconds before his eyes widened slowly as the meaning of the two pink lines began to make sense. 

“Marianne’s pregnant.” He said it slowly, a simple statement. “Marianne’s pregnant…” He said it again with confusion. “Marianne’s pregnant?” Bog gasped, but his shock turned into a smile. 

“She’s pregnant! Oh god...I’m going to be a daddy…” Bog clutched the test, tears springing to his eyes. “She’s pregnant…” 

Bog broke down into happy tears. 

* 

Marianne sipped her tea frowning slightly. “What’s taking him so long?” she mused out loud. 

Griselda yawned and winced, rubbing her temples. “Maybe you guys didn’t have any aspirin after all.” 

Marianne shook her head. “No we do, maybe I better I go check on him...Oh, there he is.” 

Griselda looked over to see her son hurrying toward them. 

Marianne smiled. “Hey did you find…” 

Marianne was unable to finish her sentence as Bog wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, crushing her face against his chest. “Marianne.” He said her name in a thick tone. “I’m so happy,” he whispered, his blue eyes filled with emotion. 

Marianne looked over Bog’s shoulder at Griselda, clearly confused. 

“Did you find the aspirin?” Marianne asked again, hugging him back. 

Bog released her, pulling out the other chair and scooted close to Marianne, his knees touching hers when he turned her chair to face him. “I found it,” he said softly. “Where you left it on the sink.” 

Marianne frowned. “You found…” Her eyes widened. “Ooh...OH?! Oh no...Bog...I…” 

He grinned at her taking her hands and grasping them between his. “I’m so happy,” he said tenderly, blinking back tears. 

Marianne’s gasped. “It was positive?” 

Bog frowned. “Yes...wait...you didn’t know?” 

Griselda was looking between them two of them like they had each grown another head. “What are you talking about?” 

Marianne looked at Bog and her voice broke a little. “I took it this morning, but I couldn’t wait for the results since I was running late. I was going to go back up and grab it at lunch, but forgot...it was positive?” 

Bog nodded and pulled the test out of the pocket of his jacket to hand it to her. Marianne took the stick and examined it. 

Griselda sat up straight. “Is that…?” 

Bog grinned at his mother and nodded. 

Griselda shrieked. 

Marianne burst into tears. “Oh Bog...I…” 

He grabbed her hands again. “Marianne, I’m happy about this...unless you don't…” 

“No, no...Oh Bog, of course I’m happy!” Marianne smiled. “I’ve never been happier.” 

Bog yanked her into his arms and held her tightly. Marianne began to cry, holding onto him as Griselda stood up and yelled at the top of her lungs. 

“I’M GOING TO BE A BABUSHKA!!”


End file.
